


this is what home feels like

by questionableatbest



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 79,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7529824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionableatbest/pseuds/questionableatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex is foster kid who's used to switching homes a lot, so he doesn't really understand why the Washington's are so intent on keeping him around, but he's willing to go with it- especially after he meets Lafayette's friends, and starts to feel like he has a family for the first time in years. </p><p>Of course, things get a bit more complicated when George's presidential campaign begins and Alex's father reappears.</p><p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. welcome to mount vernon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***the actual founding fathers were pieces of shit this is 100% about fictionalized versions of them that veer so far from who they actually were that it's almost comical, but enjoy!

By now Alex knew that his case file came with a warning on it, and he wore that warning like armor.

It got him wary looks from foster families, school administrators, and social workers alike, but he didn’t let those bother them because he knew that he could prove them all wrong if he wanted to. More often than not he didn’t want to, but that was another story.

The Kelley’s had been nice enough, but they’d also been busy. They had five kids of their own, all under twelve years old, and Alex was pretty sure that they’d never considered him to be anything more than a glorified babysitter. He hadn’t minded it for the most part, but it had made saying goodbye to them a little harder than he would have liked because, despite his better judgement, he’d grown attached to the kids. Leaving them also hadn’t been entirely surprising.

The new case worker that had greeted him at their door to take him away had been a bit of a shock, but he got over it soon enough.

The older man introduced himself as Ben and had left it at that, and Alex decided that he was better off not asking any questions. Really, the guy was nothing more than a glorified chauffeur who would be checking in on him intermittently, so he’d asked to turn the radio on in the car and had tried his best to focus on the music that poured out of the speakers, rather than on the strangely long drive.

While they were driving, he bit his lip and he knew he was fidgeting and, by the sidelong glances that Ben sent him every couple of miles, the older man noticed as well. If anybody asked, he would swear to all the gods in the world that he wasn’t nervous, but he also knew that he’d by lying.

New families were good, sometimes, but they also had the potential to be very bad.

Alex hadn’t experienced any of the very bad ones, but he’d heard stories about them from kids who hadn’t been as lucky as he was, and he’d learned to be wary. In his life, wariness was one of the constant survival mechanisms that he’d been able to afford, and it was one that he tried his best to hold on to.

For a brief moment, when Ben pulled up in front of the largest house Alex had ever seen- it was a mansion, really- he slipped up on that front.

Apparently seeing the look of wonder on the boy’s face, Ben bit back a smile. “Welcome to Mount Vernon,” he said, “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

Alex made a non-committal noise, and was surprised when Ben didn’t comment on it. His last case worker had been well meaning, but that would have definitely gotten him a lecture on attitude and sass and a million other things that Alex had never really held in check. Instead, the two of them sat in the car in silence for a moment.

Alex was lost in thought, busy reminding himself that, no matter how nice the house was, he still didn’t know the people living in it and, even if they were actual gods, he still probably wouldn’t get to stay for long, when Ben cleared his throat and interrupted him.

“Whenever you’re ready, my boy,” he said, nodding towards the mansion with raised eyebrows, and Alex decided to let the term of endearment slide just once. When he reached for the door handle instead of saying anything, Ben nodded again. “Very good my boy, very good.”

So maybe he shouldn’t have let the ‘my boy,’ slide the first time.

He breathed in and out and offered a strangled smile, before he headed for the trunk of the small car and grabbed his stuff. Two garbage bags of clothing, and a back pack filled with his more important belongings.

He waved off Ben’s offer of help, and together they headed for the front door. Alex tried his best not to feel out of place, but he knew that it was a lost cause. He was at the modern, American equivalent of a castle, and he was pretty sure that every article of clothing he was wearing had holes in them. He also knew that his hair was greasy and outgrown, and that he looked too skinny, and that absolutely nothing about him screamed ‘ideal foster child.’

When Ben knocked on the huge doors and, moments later, they opened to reveal the most pristine couple he’d ever seen, those feelings only intensified, and the couples glowing smiles did nothing to qualm them.

The man was probably double the size of Alex, and he held himself with an air of respect that Alex didn’t know how to respond to. The woman was smaller, but the regal air was still there, though the warmth in her eyes somewhat deterred it. They looked perfect, and Alex was immediately ready to call that bluff, but something inside him decided to hold back.

Moments later, the man broke the silence. “You must be Alexander,” he said, and Alex decided not to correct him on the formality of his name. These seemed like formal people, and he decided to go with it. He was rewarded for that, when the man smiled. “We’ve heard a lot about you. I’m George Washington, and this is-”

“I’m Martha,” the woman jumped in, sending a quick, pursed lip, glare towards her husband, “And I can introduce myself,” she finished, and then turned back to Alex, who was watching with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, darling.”

Alex bit his tongue. “You too, ma’am,” he said, and watched the woman shudder. Her husband seemed to find amusement in that, and it got him another glare from Martha.

“Please, whatever you do, don’t call me ma’am. I get enough of that from the interns at work- it’s just Martha here, if it’s all the same to you.”

Alex saw the opportunity, and decided to take it. “Then if it’s all the same to you,” he said, aiming for non-confrontational, and likely falling short, “I’d prefer Alexander- or just Alex. Darling is-” he cut himself off and wrinkled his nose, and the woman looked somewhat affronted, while her husband chuckled.

“Fair enough, Just Alex,” he said, and then it was Martha’s turn to groan.

Alex narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn’t say anything. Watching them was mesmerizing, and they had the whole ‘perfect couple’ act down to a tee. It would have been impressive, if it weren’t as incredibly discerning as it was, but Alex knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

That fact was solidified moment later, when Ben clapped him on the back. Alex shied away from the touch out of habit, and was grateful when nobody said anything about it. He also noted how silent the older man had been throughout the encounter, and he knew that it had likely been on purpose. It had been his way of showing Alex that he would be fine with these people, and Alex was momentarily angry with himself, because Ben’s plan had almost worked.

And then Ben was smiling and taking a step back, and Martha spoke up. “You aren’t coming in?” she asked, eyebrows raised, and Alex swallowed down a retort. The case workers never came in.

“No, no,” Ben said, confirming his suspicions, “I’ve got a long drive home- I want to get started before dark.” Alex knew that translated to, ‘ _no, no, this boy is your problem now_ ,’ but when Ben turned to him a moment later, he kept his mouth shut and let the man deliver a standard goodbye speech. “You’ve got my number if you need to reach me, but I suspect you’ll be very happy here. I know that I’m happy for you. Now, goodbye, my boy, and don’t cause too much trouble for these two.”

He winked at the end, and then he was gone. Alex and the Washington’s waited on the porch until he drove away, and when his car was out of sight Alex became desperately aware of how alone he was. When he turned back to the couple, they looked uncertain, so he sighed.

“Is there somewhere I can put my stuff?”

“Of course,” Martha said, springing to life then, and taking a step inside before gesturing for Alex to follow. “George, why don’t you show him where his room is, and I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Yes, yes,” George said, before taking a step further into the house and indicating that Alex should follow, “It’s just up this way.”

The man kept talking, but Alex stopped listening. He was too busy taking in every aspect of the house, and wondering how anybody trusted him to live there. Everything his eyes landed on seemed to be worth more than he was, and the whole place was ridiculously, methodically, decorated. Alex felt like he was throwing off the planned aesthetic just by existing, and it left him on edge.

Apparently George saw that written all over his face, because when they came to an abrupt stop in front of a large door, he seemed to be holding back a smile. “It’s a lot to take in,” he said, kindly, and Alex nodded. “This’ll be your room,” he continued, opening the door to what was the biggest living space Alex had ever been afforded, and then stepping back to let him explore it. “It’s not much to look at yet, I’m afraid, but Martha will be ready to help you decorate whenever you want. Until then, please, make yourself at home.”

That hit Alex like a punch to the gut, but he nodded and dropped his garbage bags anyways. He continued to nod, letting George’s words flow past him, as the man mentioned something about rules and school and dinner being ready soon, but Alex didn’t pay much mind to any of that, and when George finally excused himself and closed the door behind him, Alex was more than a little bit relieved to be left alone.

As a rule, Alex always waited a week before he actually unpacked his things. There wasn’t much to unpack, anyways, and there wasn’t a point in doing it until he knew he’d be staying.

Because of that, there wasn’t actually much for him to do, and he ended up pacing the room. There was a bathroom attached, and it had a shower with more settings that Alex new existed. The bed was huge and it looked fluffy, but he didn’t sit down. There was a desk in the corner that looked nicer than any desk had a right to look, and the chair pushed into it looked like something made for someone far more important than him.

The room made him feel small, and the Washington’s did too.

Something about them also nagged at him; a sense of recognition that he didn’t understand, because there was no way he’d ever met them before. Sure, some of the families he’d stayed with had more money than others, but that was strictly in a, ‘ _sure, we’ll buy you a new sweater_ ,’ sense. The Washington’s were on a whole other level, and it took Alex a moment longer than he would have liked to realize why but, when he did figure it out, any excitement that he may have felt gave way to pure anger.


	2. what do you want from me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is angry, George and Martha are the chillest people around, and Lafayette is a tiny bit defensive

Alex stormed downstairs, fully intent on giving the Washington’s a piece of his mind, when three things stopped him.

First, was the fact that he got lost on his way to the kitchen. Storming around angry with a set destination was one thing, but storming around angry in circles, unsure of whether or not he’d ever actually find his way to the kitchen, was another thing entirely.

He did get there eventually, and when he did, he froze and then did a double take.

The second thing that stopped him was the surprise that hit him when he realized that by, ‘ _getting started on dinner_ ,’ Martha had actually meant, ‘ _I’ll go order pizza_.’ The generic take out boxes looked out of place on the large, elegant, wooden table, and the juxtaposition of the whole thing caught Alex off guard.

Finally, the fact that a boy, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Alex, was sitting at the head of the table, was enough to make him stop in his tracks.

Alex had, and still did, feel out of place in his old jeans and ratty t-shirt but, somehow, in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater, sprawled out across a chair with a piece of pizza in one hand and his phone in the other, the other boy looked like he was exactly where he belonged. He was also the first one to notice that Alex was standing in the doorframe, and when he did his eyes lit up and he sat up straighter.

“’Ello, _mon ami_ ,” he said, the pizza in his mouth not hiding his French accent, but obscuring the words enough to get him a look from Martha. “You must be Alex, yes?”

Alex nodded, but before he could actually reply, George jumped in.

“Manners, Gilbert,” he said, like he was used to it, and the boy at the table rolled his eyes, but sat up a bit straighter and swallowed before he spoke anyways.

“Call me Lafayette,” he said, and then, “You should eat before the food gets cold.”

Alex crossed his arms. He considered his options for a moment, before he shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he said decidedly, and then turned to face George. The anger was back, and Alex was grateful for it. It burned, and it made him feel alive, and he needed that, especially when the man was looking at him with nothing but kindness, which Alex now knew was only a ruse. He spoke with as much ice as he could muster. “I know why I’m here.”

George’s brow furrowed and Alex didn’t bother looking to Martha, and he was surprised when Lafayette was the first to speak.

“It is because you are a foster child, yes?” he asked, more curious than anything, and Alex swallowed. He wasn’t going to get emotional. Anger was one thing, but he wasn’t going to get upset.

“Yes,” he said, sharp, his eyes trained back on George’s face, “That’s exactly why I’m here, isn’t it,  _Senator_?” At that, understanding flooded onto the older man’s face, and Alex took it as all of the evidence he needed to continue. “This must look fan-fucking-tastic for your re-election campaign, right? I mean, everybody always says you’re a man of the people and whatever other bullshit they can come up with, so they’ll just eat this up, won’t they? _Senator Washington takes a piece of teenage trash into his home, out of the goodness of his heart?_ I can see the headlines now- though if there are going to be photoshoots you’ll probably want to buy me some new clothing, because it probably won’t do to have me walking around your fucking palace like this, will it?”

Alex’s rant ended, and he was surprised by that alone. Normally he was cut off before he finished. Instead, he was faced with three sets of inquiring eyes, and he was surprised to find that the only person who actually looked angry, was Lafayette.

“Are you always this welcoming?” the teenager asked, a bite to his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before, and Alex met it with a glare.

“Are you always this complicit with being used to advance this assholes political career?” he shot back, assuming that Lafayette was another foster child, and only feeling slightly satisfied when the boy stood up in anger. The satisfaction was followed by a brief moment of terror when he realized just how much bigger Lafayette was than him, but most people were bigger than Alex and that had never stopped him before, so he didn’t falter.

“Are you always such an ungrateful little b-”

“Gilbert, that’s enough,” Martha jumped in then, her voice made of nothing but steel. One look from her, and Lafayette- or Gilbert, or whoever he was- sat back down, only looking slightly ashamed, and then Martha turned the look on Alex, and he couldn’t help but feel the same way. “Alexander, please sit down. Apparently there’s quite a bit we need to discuss, and I’d rather my dinner not go cold in the meantime.”

Alex swallowed and tried to figure out why he hadn’t been yelled at yet, but when he couldn’t come up with any answers, he complied. He sat at the furthest end of the table as an act of rebellion, and glared at the spot in front of him. When a piece of pizza was placed in that spot, he averted his gaze and ignored it entirely.

Moments later he heard a sigh, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Martha nudging her husband, so he wasn’t surprised when the man’s voice broke through the tense air he’d created.

“You seem to have some questions,” he said, and Alex shrugged. “Please, feel free to ask anything.”

Alex had never been one to beat around the bush, so he didn’t hesitate before he asked, “Is there a reason you think it’s acceptable to use helpless foster children to advance your political career?” and he was surprised when George laughed.

“There are a lot of words I’d use to describe you, Alexander, but I don’t think ‘helpless’ is one of them,” he said, and Alex hated himself for the pride he felt at that. He bit it down and continued to glare, and the Senator continued after a moment. “But it’s important for you to know that the assumption you’re basing your argument off of is incorrect. You’re not here to help advance my political career. You’re here because you needed a home, and Franklin thought we would be a good match for you.”

“Franklin?”

“Ben- your case worker, I believe is his title?” Alex nodded. “He’s an old friend of ours and, though I admit we were reluctant to take in another foster child, he convinced us of you. He says you’re very bright.”

“He met me today. I might be the brightest kid in the world, but he would have no way of knowing it.”

Alex was pretty sure that Martha’s cough was to hide a laugh, but he kept his focus on George, and George kept talking.

“You test very well,” he said, with a shrug, and Alex didn’t respond at all because that was something he already knew and, if anything, the man was only making it more obvious that this arrangement was for nothing but political reasons. “And that’s despite the number of times you’ve changed schools in the past five years or so. I suspect you’ll do very well at the school we’ve enrolled you in. Gilbert has.”

At that, Alex turned to the other boy, who was still looking at him with narrowed eyes, though they seemed to be back to looking intrigued, rather than furious. “And you are?” Alex asked, and the boy leaned back and crossed his arms in a gesture of pure confidence.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, Washington. The adoption was finalized two years ago,” he said with a huff and, while most of the foster kids that Alex knew would be seething with jealousy at the word ‘adoption,’ Alex merely raised his eyebrows. He’d always had goals that were bigger than finding a family, and he’d never been fond of the idea of replacing his mother. “And I am not, as you say, a political pawn.”

Alex knew he was being an asshole, but he wanted to test the other boy, so he asked, “ _What’s with the accent_?” switching from English to French seamlessly, and biting back a smirk when he saw how impressed the rest of the table looked.

“ _France is my homeland_ ,” Lafayette replied, also in French, and Alex was pleased to know that, despite how out of practice he was, he could follow the French easily. He was also surprised when the other boy continued. “ _My parents died within a few years of each other, and the Washington’s are my godparents, so now here I am_ ,” he finished with a shrug, and Alex swallowed when he realized that, though there were a few distinct differences, their stories were eerily similar.

He didn’t talk about his family often, but for some reason he felt like he could with Lafayette, so he ignored the couple sitting across from him and kept talking in French, saying, “ _I’m from Nevis originally- it’s an island in the Caribbean. My mom and I moved to New York when I was younger and- well,_ ” he finished, also shrugging, though his was significantly less flippant than Lafayette’s.

The other boy’s eyes softened, but it was Martha who spoke.

“I’m a bit rusty with my French-” Lafayette snorted “- But did you just say that you’re from Nevis?”

Alex swallowed then, and tried to ignore the feeling of his chest tightening up. The kindness in the woman’s eyes was overwhelming so he looked away, also trying to ignore the memories of his mother that the look dug up.

“All of that’s in my file- it shouldn’t really be a surprise or anything,” he said in lieu of an actual response, and then he surprised himself by picking up the pizza in front of him. It was cold but delicious, and he chewed on it as a distraction more than anything.

“We haven’t read your file,” George said, and Alex promptly choked on the pizza in surprise. When he caught his breath and looked up, the man’s expression was unreadable. “We want to respect your privacy, and we saw that as an invasion of it.”

“Then how do you know I test well?”

George smiled softly, and Alex found it a tiny bit disarming. “Once Franklin started talking about you it was hard to get him to stop. He’s very proud of you, considering the fact that you two met for the first time today.”

Alex tried to hide his flush by taking another bit of pizza, and by the time he’d swallowed it, the conversation seemed to have changed.

Lafayette was saying something about school and friends, and Martha was talking about going shopping, and George was still smiling at him, and the whole thing felt ridiculously domestic and worrisomely normal, and it was the kind of thing that Alex knew he shouldn’t get used to, but he also didn’t see the point in complaining, so he focused on his piece of pizza and let it all wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alex and laf will be best of friends all in good time, even if they got off to a rocky start
> 
> ALSO okay friends, i'm from ontario but i'm also from far, far away from the quebec border, which means that i spent 8 years of my academic life learning very poor french from very bad teachers who didn't actually care about teaching us french, which means that i've developed a love hate relationship with the language, and by 'love hate' i mean 'hate.' SO google translate isn't happening for the french parts- it's just going to be italicized or something because honestly, french baffles me and i blame the ontario elementary school curriculum for it entirely
> 
> next chapter includes shopping, and mentions of aaron burr... 
> 
> (and tbh aaron burr might be my favourite part of this au, so i'm very excited and i'll probably post it tomorrow)
> 
> (also i run on coffee and validation, and if you were to leave a comment you would be supplying me with one of those two things... <3)


	3. you need a phone, kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex goes shopping with Martha and Laf

While the night before had been surprisingly peaceful, the next day was anything but.

Alex had ate more pizza than he had any right to, gaining amused looks from the adults and an appreciative one from Lafayette, before he’d excused himself. He’d fallen asleep easier than he had in a long time, and that resulted in him being more than a little bit disoriented when he woke up.

Still, he’d showered (which had been an adventure all on its own, in the shower that looked more like a spa attached to a wall) and had made his way back to the kitchen, and that’s when Martha and Lafayette had cornered him.

George had, apparently, had to run to work, which meant that shopping was only the three of them. Alex hadn’t understood why they even needed to go shopping, but one look from Lafayette told him not to fight it, and he figured that that was the best course of action.

Together, Martha and Lafayette had herded him in and out of more stores than he’d even known existed, handing him clothes to try on that were far nicer than he’d ever owned (‘ _ our school doesn’t have a uniform, but the dress code is very strict _ ,’ Lafayette had explained, and Martha had jokingly chastised him for speaking French). They’d also gotten school supplies, shoes, a bag, new curtains for his room, and a few other decorative things that he didn’t really understand, but that Martha had insisted upon.

Mostly, he went along with it to keep them happy, but when they led him towards an Apple store, Alex drew the line.

“I’m getting tired- do you mind if we just head home?” he asked, hoping that he could at least divert them from the store for the time being, and that he could come up with an excuse about it later.

Martha didn’t buy it. “This will only take a few minutes, and we need to get you a phone if you’re ever going to leave the house without us,” she said, like it was the most logical course of action, but Alex didn’t budge.

“I’d really rather… not,” he said, hating how his voice faltered at the end of the sentence, because that never happened, and the fact that kindness was the only thing that threw him off was not a part of his psychology that he wanted to explore.

Martha crossed her arms and tilted her head, in a look that clearly said, ‘I will get my way.’ “If you don’t have a phone, how will we contact you in emergencies? How will you contact us?”

“Pay phones?” Alex tried, rolling his eyes at Lafayette’s affronted gasp. “They’ve worked for me so far.”

“That sounds inconvenient at best,” Martha said, and Alex couldn’t help the irritation that swelled up in him.

“So does buying a phone and paying for a plan for me when you don’t know how long I’ll be here,” he snapped, and Martha’s eyes widened in shock, while Lafayette just took the opportunity to roll his.

“ _ In case you hadn’t realized, my friend, the Washington’s aren’t exactly in need of money. As far as expenses go, this does not even register to them. _ ”

“ _ I’m not a charity case _ ,” Alex fired back.

“ _ I know _ ,” Lafayette said, simply, and before Alex could reply to that he continued with, “ _ But just take the phone, for god’s sake. They’re giving it to you for free, and once you have it you can get Facebook- I spent all of last night looking for you on there, by the way- and then I can officially invite you to my friends party tonight _ .”

“I- you- what?” Alex didn’t bother with French, and apparently Lafayette took that as a sign that he’d won.

“Let’s go buy Alex a phone, Martha, dearest,” he said, wrapping an arm around the now-tired looking woman’s shoulder, and leading her into the store. Alex could have fought it more if he wanted to, but he knew a lost battle when he saw one.

They left with a phone, a laptop, and a few more things from stores on the way out, and Alex had never understood the concept of retail therapy before, but Martha looked relieved and almost happy when she and Lafayette helped Alex carry his new possessions to his room when they got home, so he decided that it must exist, and he was grateful for it.

Martha left the room soon after, claiming she had a late lunch scheduled with a friend, and that left Alex and Lafayette alone.

The French teen wasted no time making himself comfortable on Alex’s bed, lying back against the pillows and pulling out his own phone, while Alex got to work unpacking his new things. His old bags remained untouched in the corner of the room, and he was glad that nobody had asked him about them.

After a few minutes, Lafayette broke the silence that had fallen.

“You could be nicer to them, you know,” he said, and Alex was surprised that he spoke English when they were alone, but he decided to take his lead on it all the same.

“Why?”

“They’re good people, and you are living with them. Surely it must be easier for everybody if you don’t walk around with such a- how you say- brick on your back?”

Alex blinked. “Chip on my shoulder?” he guessed, and the other boy waved it away. “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder,” he protested, and Lafayette snorted. “And I’ve lived with lots of good people before. This is nothing new.”

Lafayette raised an eyebrow, and Alex came to the conclusion that the boy definitely plucked them. “Then why are you so bad at accepting kindnesses?”

“Why are you so bad at minding your own business?” Alex snapped back, but it rolled off Lafayette like the venom in the words was nothing.

“They were very excited about you coming here, you know.”

“Well, maybe they should lower their expectations,” Alex said, fighting to keep the anger in his voice, even as it faded and left him feeling warm and a bit too close to happy for his liking.

Lafayette stared at him for a few moments, before he shook his head, his curly hair bouncing around his face as he did so. “I don’t think so,” he said decisively, before he sat up straighter and made grabby hands at the bag Alex was holding. “Pass me your computer- I will set it up for you.”

Alex listened to the other boy and handed over the computer. By the end of the afternoon, his room was organized with his new things, he had a Facebook page complete with a profile picture that Lafayette had painstakingly taken, and just under ten friends. The first was Lafayette, the second two were the Washington’s, the third was a man who looked a little bit older than Lafayette named Aaron Burr, who Lafayette explained was technically his other foster brother, though he was currently away at college, and then came Lafayette’s friends.

“They’ll love you,” the other boy had insisted, sending the requests without a second thought, and Alex was surprised when both of them were accepted moments later. “See? They are already your friends, little Alex.”

“I’m not that little,” Alex said, and then, “And they don’t know me yet. They might hate me. I’ve never really had friends before- been too busy moving around and all that.”

Lafayette frowned. “There must be some people,” he said, but Alex just shrugged. There had been foster siblings that he hadn’t hated, and people in classes that he’d worked with, but people tended to stray away from him when given the choice, and he’d come to accept it. “Never mind that, then,” Lafayette amended, “You will meet them all tonight, and I promise that they will love you.”

After that, Lafayette had logged into the Washington’s Netflix account on Alex’s computer, and they watched Scandal until Martha and George got home and called them down to dinner. Lafayette had insisted that it was the only political show that George enjoyed, and when he mentioned that they’d started watching it while helping himself to the Chinese food Martha had apparently picked up, the man’s smile gave him away.

“I’m not saying that shit- sorry Martha- I’m not saying that _ stuff _ like that happens at the White House, but I don’t trust George King as far as I can throw him.”

Alex was surprised to hear the Senator speak so openly about his disdain for the President, and when he finished choking on his food, George sent him a knowing look.

“Of course,” the man continued, “I would prefer if you didn’t go running to the press with that information. My supposed ‘feud’ with that man has already fuelled enough articles to last a lifetime.”

“Supposed?” Alex couldn’t help but ask because, if the speeches he’d heard George give against the republican were anything to go by, the feud was more than ‘supposed.’

It got him a smile from the man, who asked, “You follow politics?” before he was interrupted by his wife tutting. “Sorry Martha,” he said, before turning to Alex, “No politics at the dinner table,” he explained, and then, “Also no swearing, so don’t let last night become the norm.”

Once again, Alex was caught off guard by how domestic the interaction was, and all he could do was nod. Martha cleared her throat and changed the topic.

“I hear you and Lafayette have plans tonight?” she asked, and Alex was once again caught off guard because, from his limited knowledge of parties, he was pretty sure that parents weren’t supposed to know about them.

He didn’t want to give anything away, so he just nodded and was grateful when Lafayette took over.

“Just a little thing at John’s,” he said, and Alex remembered that he was one of the ones he’d friended on Facebook. The one with the stunning smile and the face full of freckles, whose picture had reminded Alex of just how bisexual he was.

Martha smiled wryly. “Ah yes, just a little thing at John’s,” she said, “Because that’s never turned out badly before.”

Lafayette grinned back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, aloof, and Martha snorted, while George seemed to be trying his hand at firm.

“You two, behave tonight. Make good decisions. Don’t do anything Martha and I wouldn’t do. Don’t do any drugs that you don’t recognize- what?” he cut himself off from the list of cliché’s when Lafayette pressed his forehead against the table and Martha ran a hand over her face to hide a groan, while Alex watched with far more affection for the three of them than he would have liked. “I don’t know what you kids are into these days, but whatever it is- don’t do it.”

Lafayette snorted at that, and drawled out an exaggerated,  _ ‘yes dad _ ,’ and that got a snort from George in return, and then the conversation had moved on and they were mostly focused on the food in front of them, and that was fine by Alex.

It was only when Lafayette excused himself at the end of the mean and Alex went to follow, that the Washington’s asked him to stay for a minute, and then dread was coursing through him before he could stop it. 

He sat back in his chair regardless, and the kind looks on the couples face did nothing but make him panic even more. His head was spinning, and he was trying to think of all the ways he could have screwed up already, and he was wondering if he’d get to keep his new things when they sent him away, and then George spoke and Alex used the man's voice to ground himself. 

It was still a few seconds before he could actually focus on the words.

“Alex, Martha mentioned that while you were shopping today you got a bit… nervous about buying a phone, because you don’t think you’ll be staying here long?” he asked, and the dread was still there and it was louder than ever, and Alex bit his lip to keep from screaming.

George kept talking. “We want you to know, that we both sincerely hope that you’ll be here for a long time. We understand that sometimes these things aren’t in our control but, at least on our side of things, we don’t want you to go anywhere.”

Alex knew what he was supposed to say; he was supposed to nod his head and agree, and he was probably supposed to thank them too. Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind: “You shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“We know that,” George said, patiently, and then, “I’ve pretty much based my political career off of that concept.”

Alex swallowed, because that much was true. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, fiddling with his fork rather than actually looking at anybody.

“Because it’s the truth,” George said, and Alex was pretty sure he saw Martha shift to hold her husband's hand, but he still refused to look up. “We want you here, and there’s nothing that will change our minds on that. As long as you want to be here, you will be.”

Alex swallowed and he still didn’t look up, and he hated how heavy the air felt around him so he was grateful when Martha spoke.

  
“If you’re going to the party with Gilbert, you should setting ready.” Alex nodded, and then he was pushing away from the table and heading for the door but, when Martha called out, “And have fun tonight,” he was almost positive that she didn’t sound angry, and that made him feel infinitely better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'technically Alex's other foster brother, Aaron Burr' is my favourite part of this story and i can't wait until he comes home from uni to visit and i get to write him in
> 
> also confession time: i wrote the first 3 chapters of this yesterday morning when i got bored at work, and i haven't written anything since so idk when the next update will come, but they'll probably be a bit more spaced out from now on BUT"
> 
> Next chapter is going to be the party, so get ready to meet John, Herc, the Schuyler sisters, and tbh probably some assholes too, but i haven't entirely decided
> 
> and, as always, i am 100% not above fishing for comments, so let me know if you're enjoying this? <3


	4. a little party never killed nobody p1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex doesn't know how to drink vodka, or how to talk to cute boys

To be completely honest, Alex had never actually been to a party before.

Because of that, the crowd was a tiny bit disarming and so was the mansion that the party was taking place in.

At Alex’s clear surprise, Lafayette just rolled his eyes. “John and his father had a fight and Mr. Laurens is out of town now, so John is ruining the house as payback,” he explained, and Alex gawked.

“You say that like it’s normal.”

“For John, it is,” Lafayette said, waving a hand, before walking towards the house. “It’s complicated, but you will like John and that is what counts.”

Alex stopped himself from pointing out that it was normally other people who had problems with him, and not the other way around, but then Lafayette was opening the door and stepping inside, and there was nothing Alex could do except follow.

And, of course, it turned out that everybody knew Lafayette, and that everybody wanted to talk to him. Alex’s only real surprise, was that Lafayette dragged him along the whole way, and introduced him to everybody, and made no signs of leaving his side or resenting the fact that he was there. Lafayette was treating him like a friend, Alex realized, and he couldn’t help but smile.

At some point somebody handed Lafayette a drink, and Lafayette took one look at the unopened can before he handed it to Alex. “I am the, how you say, designated driver, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun, little Alex.”

“I’m not little,” Alex muttered, to the amusement of the people around him, but he accepted the can anyways. He’d never really drank before, but the drink was fruity and better than he’d expected, and he finished it within ten minutes.

After that, he was feeling better, and decided that he needed another drink, and Lafayette pointed him in the direction of the kitchen, with the promise of waiting where he was. When he got there, he was faced with more drink choices than he actually knew what to do with, and a lot more people than he wanted to deal with.

Luckily, nobody questioned his presence. He found an empty red cup easily enough, and was in the process of deciding what the proper vodka to juice ratio was, when somebody burst into the room, catching everybody’s attention in the process.

“Alright everybody, the trash is gone, so-” the boy started, and then his eyes landed on Alex and he cut himself off “Who are you?” the boy asked, at which point everybody else in the room turned to Alex, and Alex straightened his shoulders.

“Alexander Hamilton,” he said, and a few people around him snickered, but the boy who’d asked just took another step forward, his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Laf’s guy, yeah?”

“I’m not  _ his guy _ , I’m just living with-”

“The Washington’s, right,” he cut Alex off, and then stopped right in front of him and, with nobody else between them, Alex realized that he definitely knew who he was. Of course, that realization was a few moments too late, because the boy was sticking out a hand and saying, “I’m John Laurens,” and all Alex could do was accept the handshake.

If he noticed that John’s hand was warm and calloused and that his knuckles were bruised, or that John was a few inches taller than him and a lot more muscular as well, or that they were definitely standing closer together than necessary, then it definitely wasn’t Alex’s fault.

He was also pretty sure that John had used the handshake to pull himself closer to Alex, but that was beside the point.

When the other boy did let go, a moment later, he grabbed Alex’s cup before Alex could stop him, and then he let out a long whistle.

“Damn, Hamilton,” he said appreciatively, glancing from him to the drink, “You go hard. Are you drinking this straight up?”

Alex was tempted to say that he didn’t do anything  _ straight, _ but he bit his lip. “Definitely not,” he said instead, taking the cup back and turning to grab the first thing of fruit punch he could find. When he finished topping off the drink, he turned back to John and took a sip.

He promptly choked on it, and came to the abrupt, unpleasant conclusion that he’d definitely used too much vodka. He was also vaguely aware of the fact that John was trying not to laugh at him, and he felt his cheeks warm.

“I’m fine, really, thanks for the concern,” Alex said wryly once he could speak again, and John opened his mouth to reply, but a deeper voice cut him off.

“If you’re looking for manners from this asshole, you’re going to be very disappointed.”

“You wound me, Herc,” John said, bringing a hand to his chest, while the other man just rolled his eyes and turned to Alex.

“Hercules Mulligan,” he said, and then, “You’re Laf’s guy Alex, right?”

“Right on the Alex part, wrong on the _ Laf’s guy _ ,” John jumped in, winking at Alex in the process. “He just lives with the Washington’s.”

“Right,” Hercules said, narrowing his eyes and looking from John to Alex a few times, before he rolled them again. Alex had been trying to control his blush, but he was pretty sure he’d failed epically. “I’m finding Laf.”

Hercules was gone before Alex could even consider following him, and then John grabbed the bottle of vodka Alex had left on the table, and he was leaving too.

Alex was trying to figure out what to do, when John turned back around and called out, “You coming Hamilton?” and then, when Alex hesitated for half a second, John added: “I swear to god I’m not a serial killer trying to lure you away; Herc and Laf know where to find us.”

At that, Alex’s hesitation didn’t disappear, but it definitely took a step back and he smiled a little bit and shook his head, hoping to clear it. “That’s exactly what a serial killer would say,” he pointed out when he caught up to John, who was weaving his way through more rooms than Alex could keep track of.

“Probably,” John agreed, and Alex smiled again, despite it. “But you live with the Washington’s, so Laf can’t kill you and Laf’s one of my best friends so, by extension, I can’t kill you.”

“I’m pretty sure most murders are actually committed by people that you know.”

“So… if you go missing, I should point the police towards the Washington’s?”

“Especially if you’re the one who killed me,” Alex agreed, because it was far easier than pointing out that, if he went missing, it would be because the Washington’s got tired of him, and when John gave him a funny look he shrugged. “What? I don’t know many people, so statistically speaking…”

“There’s a solid chance that I’ll be the one to kill you?” John asked, eyebrows raised and Alex realized then that he probably sounded crazy, but John only smiled and went along with it. “Even if I promise not to?”

“Seeing as how you’re leading me through a strange house, away from the crowd, I don’t know how much merit that promise really holds,” Alex argued, and he was more than a little bit pleased when John laughed outright at that. He was about to go on, when they walked into a room that had four people sitting in it, and John stopped walking.

“Look, he said, “Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, and Maria,” he continued, pointing at each one as he said their names, and then he turned to the girls and pointed to Alex, “And this is Alex,” he finished, before turning to Alex completely. “You know four more people now, so the chances that I’ll be the one to kill you just went down significantly.”

Alex was about to argue that four people wasn’t a very significant difference at all, when one of the girls- Angelica, maybe?- spoke up and said, “Laurens, if this is a weird, flirting thing, you’ve got about 5 seconds to stop before you’re banned from the room.”

Alex felt his face light up again, while John just laughed and dropped onto the couch across from them. “This is my house,” he said, and the nodded for Alex to sit next to him, “You can’t kick me out.”

Alex sat down as well, and tried not to focus on the fact that John hadn’t denied flirting with him.

“Do you really want to test her on that?” Peggy asked, and Angelica smirked.

John rolled his eyes. “Where were you when I was kicking Jefferson out twenty minutes ago?”

“I was trying to help, but Eliza held me back,” Angelica said, and Alex couldn’t help but be at least mildly impressed by everybody in the room. He also felt incredibly out of place, so he took a sip of his drink and tried not to wince at the taste. When he looked back up, Angelica was staring at him. “Who are you, again?” she asked, catching him off guard with the intensity of her gaze.

“Alexander Hamilton?” he replied, unsure of why it sounded like a question, and grateful when John jumped in.

“He’s staying with the Washington’s,” he provided, and Angelica raised an eyebrow.

“Life Laf?”

John shrugged, and Alex knew it was his cue to jump in. He took a drink to procrastinate, and then shook his head. “I’m just a foster kid,” he amended, and then looked away before he could see the looks of pity or disgust that he was sure were coming.

He was surprised when, instead of a sympathetic comment, he was met with anger.

“What the fuck do you mean, _ just a foster kid _ ?” Peggy demanded, and he looked back up to see her brows furrowed and a glare on her face.

“Peggy,” Eliza hissed, but Angelica looked irritated as well and when Peggy spoke again, nobody interrupted her.

“What? That makes me  _ just a foster kid _ too, and I’m a hell of a lot more than  _ just a foster kid _ ,” she spat out, and Alex did a double take then.

“You’re-?”

Peggy’s only response was to raise an eyebrow in a way that clearly said, ‘ _ so? _ ’ and Alex didn’t know what to do about that. He was grateful when Eliza jumped in.

“Peggy, you’ve lived with us for two years, and your adoption’s going to be finalized within the month,” she said, sounding patient but a tiny bit exasperated, before she turned to Alex. “I’m adopted too, by the way, but I don’t have much experience with the foster care system- I was adopted when I was three.”

“Lucky,” Alex said, and she smiled in response. He didn’t know what to say next, and that was rare for him; any other topic, and he could have gone on, a mile a minute, but when it came to his history, he always froze. Because of that, he was more than a little bit grateful when the awkward silence only lasted a few seconds, before Hercules and Lafayette barged into the room.

“Are we doing this, or what?” Hercules demanded, after he’d situated himself in the last free chair in the room.  Alex was surprised when, instead of finding somewhere else to sit, Lafayette just dropped himself into the other boys lap.

That was followed by a chorus of  _ ‘yes’s _ ,’ and  _ ‘finally’s _ ’, and when nobody actually offered an explanation, Alex forced himself to ask, “Doing what?”

Lafayette’s grin only widened, and his gaze darted from John to Alex. “I thought Hercules said you were taking care of Alexander, John,” he drawled, and Alex felt his face heat up once again.

And, once again, John took it all in stride. “There were more important things to discuss,” he said, waving Lafayette off, before he turned in his seat to face Alex. “Have you played Kings Cup before?”

Alex panicked, and his first instinct was to lie: “Oh yeah, loads of times,” he said, but then he heard somebody snort and he remembered how bad of a liar he was, and he deflated a tiny bit as he admitted, “Actually, I’ve never even heard of it.”

The girls laughed and he was pretty sure that Lafayette called him cute, but John only smiled and kept it trained on him.

“Don’t worry- our rules are completely fucked up so even if you did know the game, it wouldn’t help you much,” he reassured Alex, before the girl who hadn’t spoken yet- Maria?- cleared her throat.

“Our rules are  _ innovative _ , Laurens, not fucked up.”

  
“Fine Reynolds,” he said, before turning back to Alex, “Our rules are _ innovative _ . But basically, each card in the deck has a different meaning, and each person takes a turn picking a card. You have to do whatever your card tells you. So, you in Ham?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fact: it is literally impossible for me to write a chapter about a party and not call it 'a little party never killed nobody'
> 
> also this turned out longer than i expected, so i decided to do it in parts which means:
> 
> Next chapter will be their fucked up version of Kings Cup, and I don't know when it'll be posted (mainly because it hasn't been written yet) but i'm excited?


	5. a little party never killed nobody p2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drunk friends getting to know each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's like super vague lowkey mentions of homophobia in this chapter, but trust me when i say that homophobia is not going to be a huge recurring theme in this or anything, because i am tired and queer and there's enough of it in real life, without it being thrown into fanfic as all
> 
> (which isn't to say that writing stuff into fanfic isn't a great and valid coping mechanism for some people- it just isn't one that i gravitate towards, if that makes sense?)

When John had warned Alex about the obscurities of their version of King’s Cup, Alex hadn’t known what to expect. As soon as they’d started playing, he realized that any expectations he could have had would have fallen short anyways.

They were barely finished the first round of the game, and yet Hercules was wearing Maria’s clothing, Angelica had performed a near perfect rendition of Super Bass, and Peggy had disappeared for 5 minutes and had come back with somebody else's panties.

For his part, Alex had gone first and his card had just demanded that he finish his drink. It had burned the whole way down, but he’d had never been one to back away from a challenge, so he’d chugged the contents of the cup, and the cheers he’d been met with had been all the affirmation he’d needed at the time.

Now, halfway into his third drink, Alex was starting to think that chugging the vodka and juice concoction hadn’t been such a great idea. His head was spinning and he felt fuzzy and a tiny bit disconnected, but he also felt warm, and that was nice.

And if, every once in awhile, John moved a little bit closer to him, or Alex shifted in his seat and accidentally brushed against the other boy, than he definitely wasn’t complaining.

When his turn came around again, Alex picked a card carefully and deliberately, ignoring Angelica’s impatient tisk-ing. When he came face to face with a two of hearts, he had no idea what the fuck it meant and he realized, a moment too late, that he’d said as much out loud.

His accidental question was met with snorts of laughter, until Eliza came to his rescue with an actual explanation: “Two is for Truth,” she said, “So we each get to ask you a question, and you have to answer them truthfully.”

Alex considered that. On one hand, there were a lot of things that he wanted to keep to himself, and that he definitely didn’t want the rest of the group to know. On the other hand, while the game had gotten a bit wild at times, nobody in the room had ever been deliberately cruel, and Alex couldn’t imagine that changing. For better or for worse, he almost felt safe with them, and that alone left him feeling uneasy. Therefore, he was grateful when Lafayette spoke up.

“If you do not want to answer, you can do a shot instead,” he said, from where he was still sitting in Hercules’ lap, and Alex nodded because that seemed like a fair trade.

“Who asks first?”

John raised a hand, almost bashfully in response to that, and Alex barely had a chance to smile at him, before he asked, “Do you have a- significant other?” and everybody else burst out laughing.

“Smooth, Laurens,” Hercules said, and the sentiment was echoed by just about everybody else in the room, while Alex tried his best to hide the stupidly large grin accompanied by a blush, that had taken over his face.

“No,” he said, and then added, “I don’t really stick around many places for very long, so it doesn’t leave much room for dating,” almost as a warning to himself, because the warm feeling in his stomach was hard to ignore, but he knew that nothing good would come of it.

Still, Alex couldn’t help but sneak a look at John, who was definitely biting back a smile.

“I think what John was trying to figure out,” Maria jumped in then, with a smirk on her face that was a tiny bit terrifying, “Is whether or not you’re as gay as the rest of us are.”

That caught Alex off guard. He’d never bothered to be ashamed of his sexuality, but he’d also never really bothered to share it with anybody. At foster homes, he always knew somewhere in the back of his mind that sharing it might not be the safest option, and it’s not like he’d had any romantic suitors anyways, so it had never been a problem. Looking around at everybody else in the room, he suddenly caught on to the last part of Maria’s statement.

“As in, you’re all gay?” he asked, a bit more bluntly than he’d planned on, and he saw Angelica sit up a bit straighter.

“Would there be a problem with that?” she demanded, and Alex realized how his question had sounded.

“No- I was just surprised, it all,” he clarified quickly and then, when Angelica still didn’t look entirely convinced, he added: “I’m bisexual. Or- I think I am? I mean I’m definitely not straight but I haven’t really done too much thinking about it, and I read somewhere that sexualities can be fluid, and that theory made a lot of sense to me, but our society pretty much relies on labels right now and that’s good in some ways and not so great in a lot of others, but in terms of this, if I had to choose a label I’d say that I’m bi?”

When his rant finished Alex took a moment to catch his breath, and was met with bewildered looks from everybody else, and doubt crashed over again. He’d overshared, and they didn’t care, and it was weird, and for all he knew they’d been joking about the gay thing, but then-

“That was fantastic,” John said, clapping a hand over his shoulder and shaking him slightly before he let go, a huge smile on his face the whole time. “That was brilliant. You need to be on a stage or something- we’d have world peace in five seconds flat.”

Alex flushed at the attention, but he found himself beaming back at John. He held himself back from asking how he fit into the ‘ _ gay as the rest of us _ ,’ description, but only just.

The group decided that that had counted as Maria’s question, so Angelica was next, and Alex barely even flinched when she asked, “Where are you from?”

He did play with the cup in his hands and look down for half a second, but then he answered seamlessly: “Nevis- it’s an island in the Caribbean? Though if you’re asking like, where I’m actually technically from that would be Puerto Rico. My parents moved to Nevis before I was born, so that’s where I grew up and everything, and then we moved to America and now here I am.”

Angelica raised an eyebrow. “’And now here I am’ seems like a pretty big jump,” she pointed out, and it took Alex a moment to realize what she was asking.

Luckily, Lafayette was quicker on the up take, and he jumped in. “Nope, you already asked your question, Angie, so Alex does not have to answer that,” he declared, and Alex smiled at him. The gratitude disappeared a moment later, when Lafayette pointed out that it was now Peggy’s turn.

For his part, Alex was having more trouble reading her than he was anybody else in the room. She seemed to be thinking something similar, because her eyes were narrowed and she waited a few seconds before she asked, “How many foster homes have you been in?”

Everybody else in the room groaned, but Alex didn’t even blink.

Sure, being around the group of friends was strange, but Peggy was familiar to him, and not because he’d ever met her before; she was familiar, because she’d been in foster care, and most foster kids were at least a little bit alike. They were hard and defiant and, at the base of all of that, they were tired.

Alex also knew how to interact with her. He quickly did the math in his head and then, ignoring everybody else’s protests that he didn’t have to answer, he said, “26, counting the Washington’s.”

The room went silent at that, and Alex tried not to react to the, ‘ _ fucking hell, _ ’ that John muttered under his breath. The blanket of alcohol that seemed to be hanging over his mind made that a lot easier. The fact that Peggy’s only response was to nod and then take a drink also helped, and then they moved on.

When Eliza asked him what his happiest memory was, he told them about how, a few months after moving to America and starting school here, he’d won an essay writing contest and his mother had cried because of how proud she was, and when Hercules asked him if he’d ever been in a fight, Alex levelled him with a ‘ _ please _ ’ look, and said, “More than I can count,” and it was only when Lafayette asked him what he wanted to do with his life, that he took a shot instead of answering.

After that, things got even foggier.

John’s turn was next, and he picked a ‘dare’ card, and Lafayette daring him to spend the rest of the game cuddling with Alex, and he then Maria drew a joker and prank called somebody named Sam, and Angelica somehow got another musical card and performed I Will Survive, and Alex had fun.

He let himself fall into the group headfirst, and he soaked in everything going on around him, and he  _ relaxed _ . It was nice, and he felt good, and it might have been because of the alcohol coursing through his veins, but he decided not to question it.

It was only when, hours later, Lafayette announced that they had to head home, that Alex started to get nervous.

Still, he sat Lafayette in the front seat silently, while they dropped the Schuyler sisters off first, and then Hercules, and then Lafayette turned to head in the direction of the Washington’s place, and Alex started bouncing his knee.

Apparently noticing, the French boy raised an eyebrow. “Did you have fun tonight, little Alex?” he asked, and Alex nodded.

“Your friends are really cool,” he said, ignoring the way that his voice slurred a tiny bit, and Lafayette smiled.

“They are your friends too now, you know,” he said, and Alex didn’t bother responding to that. “Especially John,” Lafayette added, with a knowing smile that made Alex groan. “John is  _ definitely  _ your friend now.”

Looking for absolutely anything else to talk to talk about, Alex cleared his throat. “Are you an Hercules a thing?” he asked, and he heard Lafayette sigh, but he was also resting his head against the window and couldn’t bring himself to lift it up and actually look at the other boy. “Sorry,” he muttered, instead, “It’s none of my business.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lafayette waved him off, “It is just-  _ how you say _ \- complicated.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex muttered again, but this time, before Lafayette could say anything else, they were pulling into the Washington’s (ridiculously huge) drive way, and the car was stopping. Lights were on in the house, and Alex eyed it nervously. “Are they going to be mad?” he asked, warily.

“Who?” Lafayette asked, sounding genuinely confused, and Alex lifted his head at that. It spun for a moment but he did his best to level Lafayette with a look that said, ‘ _ really? _ ’ and he was pretty sure that he succeeded. “George and Martha? What would they be mad about?”

Alex pointed at himself. “Drunk,” he said, and then, “Also, it’s like, midnight or something. Par- fuck-  _ adults _ don’t like that.”

  
Lafayette gave him a strange look that ended in a shrug. “Our curfew is one, you didn’t drive, and you were responsible. That is all they ask,” he said, and that sounded too good to be true, but Alex’s head was back to spinning and he couldn’t think up a decent argument against it, so he just let Lafayette help him out of the car, and then into the house, and then he was in bed and asleep before he knew what was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally wrote 5 different versions of this chapter before i decided to stick with this one, but tbh i'm still not really in love with it or anything, but let me know what you think?
> 
> next chapter is probably going to be Alex being hung over, and then Alex getting ready for school
> 
> (also like honestly your comments are so sweet and i love all of you for reading this <3)


	6. fight me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Washington's are literally the chillest parents ever, and Alex and Lafayette bond while they fight people online

Alex woke up the next day with an awful hangover and no real motivation to do anything.

Because of that, he was incredibly grateful when Lafayette’s words from the night before proved to be true; the Washington’s really weren’t mad at him for having drank. 

When he walked into the kitchen just before noon, looking for coffee and toast, he found the couple sitting at the table, sharing a newspaper, and all they did was smile.

“I take it you had a good time?” Martha asked, and Alex’s response had barely been intelligible, as he helped himself to the coffee pot that was half full, and started rummaging through the fridge for milk.

“I remember when I was your age,” George started, cutting himself off with a sigh that just missed nostalgic, and Martha laughed.

“You remember the stone age?” she joked, and George feigned offense. 

For his part, Alex simply watched the two of them interact, trying to figure out exactly how he fit into the conversation. When he finished fixing his coffee, he turned back to them to see that they were both looking at him, and he bit his lip.

“I was just going to hang out in my room,” he said, hoping against hope that he wasn’t expected to sit with them, and trying not to sigh out of relief when George waved him off.

“Go, go, get some rest- you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he said, and Alex swallowed the lump in his throat that appeared at the mention of school, smiled briefly, and made his way back to his room.

Once he got there, he abandoned his coffee on his nightstand and grabbed his phone. Of course, he’d forgotten to charge it the night before, but he only realized that after several moments of trying to turn it on. He ended up plugging it into the wall and grabbing his laptop instead, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with it.

He’d used computers before; some of his foster families had let him use theirs, and his schools had had them, and, when he stayed with some of the less-welcoming families, he tended to frequent libraries, and use their computers as well, so it was nothing knew to him, but the privacy that his own laptop allowed him was nice.

He checked facebook first, but the fact that he only had 10 friends limited what he could actually do on it, though he did have four friend requests waiting for him, all of which he accepted with little hesitation.

After that, he found a newspapers website, and he started reading. He went through the politics section first, and then current events, and then he found himself in the opinion pieces, and by that point he couldn’t help himself; he started to read people's comments. After that, he only lasted a few seconds before he started leaving his own comments, and then it was only a matter of minutes before he was in the middle of three fights, and in the process of starting a fourth, and he knew that he was enjoying it was too much, but he also didn’t bother feeling guilty.

People were ignorant, and terrible, and he knew that he was smarter than them. He knew that he could beat them, so that’s what he did.

Or, at least, that’s what he was in the process of doing, when Lafayette knocked on his door and then walked right in, and Alex promptly closed his laptop in a panic.

Lafayette raised an eyebrow at that, and took a step back. “Am I.. interrupting something?” he asked, and Alex’s eyes widened when he realized what the other boy was implying.

“No- oh my god  _ no _ ,” Alex said, “You just surprised me,  _ god _ , I was just reading the newspaper.”

“It is okay Alexander, you can do whatever you want in your room- I am not judging you,” Lafayette insisted, at which point Alex rolled his eyes, opened his computer again, and turned it to face Lafayette.

“Newspaper,” he said, firmly, “See?”

At that, Lafayette’s grin widened and apparently it was all the invitation he needed, before he flung himself into Alex’s bed.

“And what is new in the world today?” he asked, and Alex couldn’t help but snort.

“Ignorance,” he said, “And bigotry.”

“None of that is new, Alexander,” Lafayette pointed out, and Alex let out a laugh, and turned his computer a little bit so that Lafayette could read it as well. “You are fighting people in the comments?” he asked, and Alex shrugged.

“Somebody has to,” he said, and Lafayette grinned.

“Well then, it is lucky for you, that you do not have to do it alone.”

Alex was more than a little bit surprised by how well his and Lafayette’s ideas intertwined, and how easily their arguments came together, and how much fun he had that afternoon.

When Lafayette took out his phone after Alex made one particularly poignant comment and declared that it was, “worthy of twitter,” Alex smiled and mentioned that he didn’t actually have a twitter account, and then they set to work making him one.

Lafayette was his first follower, though Angelica followed him soon after (“ _ she lives for fighting people on twitter _ ,” Lafayette explained), and then Hercules and John and the rest of the group followed him as well. 

After that, Alex started live tweeting the arguments he and Lafayette were getting into, and it was only about twenty minutes into that, when his long forgotten phone buzzed on the nightstand beside him.

He had no idea who could be texting him, so he grabbed it immediately, and saw an unknown number appear, along with the message, ‘ _ i was worried you’d be hungover, but apparently that’s not the case, seeing as how you’re tweeting a mile a minute and all _ .’ Alex furrowed his brow at that, and turned it to Lafayette, who only laughed.

“I hope you are not mad,” he said, “But I gave John your phone number last night. You two hit it off so well, it seemed like it would be a waste not to.”

The identity of the texter was confirmed a moment later when Alex’s phone buzzed again, this time reading, ‘ _ shit, this is john- laf’s friend? _ ’ and then ‘ _ i swear to god i’m not a stalker, _ ’ and Alex smiled.

He read the message a few times, before he typed out a response, thinking back to their conversation from the night before and hoping that John would catch the reference: ‘ _ but isn’t that exactly what a stalker would say? _ ’ 

Less than a minute later, he got his response:  _ ‘you caught me ham _ ,’ and then,  _ ‘i am both a stalker and a murderer _ .’

Alex laughed quietly at that, and when he looked up from his phone he realized that Lafayette had stopped typing out a comment, and was looking at Alex with barely concealed joy.

“You and John really did hit it off, I see,” he said with a grin, and Alex muttered a ‘ _ fuck off, _ ’ back.

Lafayette said something about ‘young love,’ next, but Alex was saved from having to reply, when Martha called them down for dinner and Alex realized just how hungry he was.

Dinner went by like it had the past two nights, with amicable talk and fast food, and Alex found himself wondering if anybody in their house actually cooked, though he figured it would be a rude thing to ask.

It was only when he was excusing himself, that George brought up school the next day.

“Martha and I both have to go into work tomorrow morning, so we won’t be able to take you to school, but everything is set up in the office and Lafayette will show you around, so there shouldn’t be any problems,” he said, and Alex nodded.

He’d started off at enough new schools to know the drill, and he knew that it likely wouldn't be anything spectacular.

Of course, knowing that and believing it were two very different things and, even if Alex did logically know that he had nothing to worry about, it didn’t stop his stomach from crawling all night.

By the time midnight rolled around, he was tossing and turning in bed, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get comfortable.

By one in the morning, he’d picked out a mindless game to play on his phone, hoping that it would lul his brain to sleep.

By two, he’d given up on that as well, and grabbed his laptop. The brightness of the screen hurt his eyes, and he knew that he should be trying to sleep because he had to be awake in less than five hours, but none of that stopped him from opening a word document, and simply typing.

Two hours later, he had five pages of words that he wasn’t sure meant anything at all, but his head was clear and he’d stopped shaking, and he realized all at once how exhausted he was. 

At most, he had three hours of sleep ahead of them, but that seemed better than nothing, so he shut his computer and laid back against the pillows, and tried to ignore the nervousness that was gnawing at his gut, as he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is mostly a filler chapter and it's a bit shorter than the others, but i hope you like it!
> 
> (also there are like 80 people subscribed to this fic and i genuinely can't believe it? y'all are wonderful and your comments etc. make my life <3)
> 
> next chapter will be Alex at school!


	7. lincoln heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a.ham goes to school, and things go surprisingly well

When they pulled up in front of the school, Alex was immediately grateful that he'd let Lafayette pick out his clothing. He already knew that he would feel aggressively out of place surrounded by rich kids, but if he’d been wearing the jeans and sweater that he’d picked out, he would have  _ looked  _ out of place as well.

As it was, he was wearing a dark pair of pants that he couldn’t quite name, a white button down, and a green tie. He still felt uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t stick out like the sore thumb that he knew he was, so he would survive

Of course, Lafayette read his discomfort immediately, and tutted. “You have nothing to worry about, Alexander,” he said, not for the first time that morning, and Alex sighed.

As a rule, he liked school. He liked learning, he liked reading, and he loved writing. He liked doing well on things, and normally he did. 

However, he was running on two hours of sleep at the most, he had a bit of a headache, and he just couldn’t bring himself to be excited despite the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Lincoln Heights was the best school he’d ever attended.

Because of that, he simply muttered, “Let’s get this over with,” and then opened the car door and dragged his feet towards the school, hoping that Lafayette would follow but not bothering to look back and check.

Like George had said, there weren’t any problems in the office. Lafayette seemed to have the secretary wrapped around his finger, meaning that she handed over Alex’s schedule with little difficulty. Alex decided to ignore the looks she sent him after she saw his file, but only just.

It was only when they were in the hall and Alex actually had a chance to look over his schedule, that his excitement started to build. 

His first class was American Lit, followed by World Politics, American History, and then Biology. He obviously didn’t know who any of the teachers were, or even what to really except from the classes but, just by looking at them, he knew he would enjoy them. It especially helped when Lafayette pointed out that he had at least one friend in each class, and Alex tried to wrap his head around just how nice that sounded.

He was going to have friends in his classes.

American Lit was uneventful. He sat between Maria and Eliza and they debriefed him on the books they’d already read in the class (“ _ On the Road. Trust me, you haven’t missed anything. White boy angst, and homoerotic undertones that the Mr. Coulter denies at all cost. _ ”), and then it was over and they pointed him in the direction of his Politics class.

He found the room easily enough, and then introduced himself to the teacher who seemed apathetic and disinterested, and told Alex to find a seat wherever he wanted

Because of that, he was infinitely grateful when he turned around and saw Angelica sitting in the front row of desks, with an empty seat beside her that he helped himself to before he could think twice.

And then he did think twice, when she raised an eyebrow that clearly said,  _ ‘really?’ _

“Shit- sorry, were you saving this for somebody? I can go… somewhere else?” he backtracked, already reaching for the bag he’d dropped on the floor, when her expression softened slightly.

“Actually no, this works out perfectly,” she declared, and Alex relaxed, though he also a tiny bit confused by the response. 

He was about to ask her about the class, considering how uninformative the teacher had been, when somebody else’s bag landed on his desk, and he heard the distinct sound of a throat being cleared. He looked up to see a ridiculously tall boy with a practiced pout on his face and a black eye, all of which left Alex feeling uneasy.

“This is my seat,” the boy said pointedly, and Alex froze, while Angelica let out a sigh.

“There are no assigned seats, Thomas,” she said flippantly, and then, “And Alex is my friend. You can go sit with James, or impose on somebody else.”

The boy- Thomas, apparently- narrowed his eyes. “But I don’t want to sit with James,” he protested, “I’ve been sitting here all year.”

“And I’ve been looking for a way to get rid of you all year, so this works out perfectly,” Angelica replied seamlessly, and Alex let out a surprised laugh that brought Thomas’ attention back to him.

“Are you even old enough to be in this class?” he snapped, “It’s supposed to be reserved for seniors and what are you- 13?”

Alex felt his face heat up at the attack, and he clenched his jaw. “I’m a junior,” he replied, aiming for the flippant tone Angelica had struck and desperately failing, “But I test well.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough for Thomas, because he turned on his heel to face the teacher. “Sir, he shouldn’t be here,” he said, and the teacher’s dazed expression looked more annoyed than anything, but Thomas continued. “He’s a  _ junior _ , and _ who knows _ what schools he’s been to before this- there’s no way he’ll be able to keep up with the lessons, and I’m afraid he’ll hold us all back.”

“That’s bullshit,” Alex exclaimed, all attempts at flippancy gone as he stood up and everybody else in the room turned to stare, “I wouldn’t be in this class if I couldn’t handle it, and this asshole doesn’t know-”

“ _ Language _ ,” the teacher interrupted for the first time, and then, “Both of you, sit down. I’ll be the judge of who gets to stay here, and as of right now you’re both just holding up my class.”

It wasn’t a victory, exactly, but Alex couldn’t help but smirk. He’d never been a fan of bullies, and he knew right away that Thomas fit the description well, so who could blame him if he took a little bit too much pleasure in watching the boy sulk away?

Angelica was smirking as well, though hers was directed towards Alex. “I think I like you, Hamilton,” she said, and then, “Would you listen to me if I told you that fighting Thomas is a waste of time?”

Alex snorted and got out a, “Definitely not,” before the teacher shushed them and took over the class. He spent the rest of it in relative peace, if only because his original assessment of Mr. Coulter had been right, and it was the most boring experience of his life.

Lunch, as it turned out, was anything but boring.

Angelica dragged him there from their politics class, and dropped him at an empty table, before claiming a seat across from him. They were quickly joined by Eliza and Maria, and then Peggy and Hercules, and then Lafayette and John, both of whom had damp hair and flushed faces.

Alex was about to ask what exactly they’d been doing, when Lafayette answered it for him, flinging himself into the seat beside Hercules and draping himself over the other boy.

“Gym class will be the death of me,” he whined, his French accent coming out stronger than usual, even as everybody else smirked.

In the seat he’d taken beside Alex, John rolled his eyes. “You say that every day Laf,” he pointed out, “And every day you’re fine.”

Lafayette’s glare was almost scary. “You threw a ball at me.”

“We were playing dodge ball.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“We were on opposite teams!”

“Yes, your team was you and the rest of the football players, and my team was the marching band,” Lafayette pouted, though John still didn’t look particularly apologetic.

“Do we even have a marching band?” he asked, and Lafayette waved him off.

“It was a figure of speech.”

“Was it?” John asked, while everybody else hid their laughs in their food, and then he turned to Alex. “Tell me Ham, has your day been better than Laf’s?”

Alex had been watching the other boys’ interaction with a smile on his face, impressed by how natural and easy the conversation had sounded; like they’d had the same argument a million times before, and like they were ready to have it a million more times. Alex only hesitated for half a second before he allowed himself to be pulled into that.

“Yeah, it’s been great,” he said, surprised by the fact that he meant it, and then, “You play football?”

He was pretty sure that Angelica snorted at the question and Maria was definitely smirking, but Alex focused on the flush that was taking over John’s sea of freckles. 

Surprisingly, it was Lafayette who actually answered, sounding ridiculously proud when he did. “Our Jonathan is the  _ quarterback _ ,” he said, and Alex didn’t exactly know what that meant, but it sounded impressive and important, and before that moment he had no idea that he was into jocks, but the fact that John played football was definitely  _ something _ .

Apparently noticing Alex’s interested, Eliza spoke up. “We’re all going to watch his game Friday evening, if you want to come,” she offered, and Alex smiled at her.

“That’d be awesome,” he said, maybe a bit too quickly, but then he caught a glimpse of John’s smile and decided that he didn’t care.

After that, lunch passed by uneventfully. The group took turns looking over Alex’s schedule and giving his advice about different teachers he had, and filling him in on what they considered to be important gossip, and, when Lafayette realized that Alex hadn’t actually packed himself a lunch, he handed over half of his own, and refused to take no for an answer.

It was nice, and it was something that Alex could get used to, and that in and of itself was terrifying, but every time he tried to pull back and put distance between himself and the group, they drew him back in, and by the time lunch was over, at least for the moment, he’d stopped fighting it.

History with Peggy was interesting.

Peggy, as it turned out, had beef with just about every historical figure to ever exist, and she wasn’t quiet about it. The teacher was surprisingly receptive to her criticism, though Ms. Marshall only let her interrupt so many times before she pointed out that, “I’m the one marking the tests, darling, so maybe you should let me get a few points in edgewise?” and after that, all of her facts, anecdotes, and complaints were directed towards Alex specifically.

It was after class, when she offered to walk him to his biology room, that she cleared her throat and actually started to look nervous.

“Look, Hamilton,” she started, and Alex bit his lip to stop himself from interrupting, “Eliza and Angie think I should apologize for Saturday, and they may not be entirely wrong because I guess I kind of was a bit of a bitch to you, even though honestly you were super distant and weird and I was kind of drunk, and I’m always mean when I’m drunk, but anyways, I guess I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or whatever.”

Alex was very, very rarely rendered speechless, but after Peggy’s rant he had to take a breath, if only to process everything she said. After a moment, he blinked.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, “I mean, I was kind of a dick about the whole foster care thing so-”

“You really weren’t,” she cut in. “I mean, if I’d been in 26 homes, I’d be a bit fucking guarded too,” she finished, and Alex didn’t know what to say to that. He fiddled with the strap on his bag, and she went on: “Like, before the Schuyler’s found me I’d been in the system for five years, but even then, I was only ever in like, seven or eight homes, so-”

“We really don’t have to talk about this.”

“Right,” Peggy said, taking the interrupting in stride. “Eliza and Angelica just thought…”

“Do you do everything they tell you?” Alex asked, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did, and feeling incredibly grateful when Peggy just shrugged.

“I mean, together they’re like 90% of my judgement, so,” she said, and Alex laughed despite himself. He was even more grateful when she changed the topic almost entirely after that, and they spent the rest of the walk to the biology room talking about their history class again.

Still, by the time they got to the room, his mood had only improved marginally and he realized all at once just how tired he was, so he gave up on the ‘good student’ charade that he’d been putting on. He kept his introduction to the teacher quick, and then he headed straight for the seats in the back of the class and hunched over his desk, burying his face in his arms.

He was still there, a few moments later, when somebody dropped their bag beside him and sat down. He didn’t bother to look up, until a familiar voice asked, “Tired, Ham?” and then he groaned and turned his face towards the voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said immediately, and John raised an eyebrow.

“Right,” he drawled, and Alex took a moment to appreciate his slight Southern accent, “You aren’t about to fall asleep on the desk, then?”

“Still no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex said, this time biting back a small smile, as John narrowed his eyes, a bit more dramatically than necessary.

“Right,” he said again, this time like they were both in on a joke, and it seemed like there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but then the teacher was starting the lesson and they both fell silent.

For his part, Alex had a notebook out in front of him and desperately tried to focus on the board. As far as classes went, he’d never been great at science, but if he worked hard and studied a lot, it had never been an issue, and he didn’t plan on it being an issue at this school.

Still, the board was far away and kind of blurry, and every once in awhile he found himself glancing over to look at what John was doing, and he couldn’t help but be a tiny bit distracted by the doodles that were coming to life on his page. The teacher was going on about the environment and endangered species and all sorts of animals, and John seemed to be drawing every single one of them. 

At one point, he was sure that John caught him looking, and he had to hold back a laugh when, the next time he peaked at the other boys’ notebook, it contained a detailed caricature of the teacher, telling him to pay attention.

When him and Lafayette got home from school that night to find the Washington’s waiting for them, with dinner on the table, eager to hear how it went, Alex was struck once again by just how much he was enjoying himself.

It was only when he went to bed that night that he realized that, once again, he couldn’t sleep and, instead of trying, he just grabbed his computer and tried to work it all out in an empty word document.

  
As it turned out, happiness was something that he was still trying to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i feel like alex would actually like jack kerouac but i don't and he can fight me
> 
> also this chapter was mostly building up for things to happen in the future, so just bear with me if it all seems to be going super slowly right now- there are gong to be a few time jumps etc. and this thing will actually get moving soon enough
> 
> that being said, at some point alex and john are going to skip bio class because they refuse to dissect animals, and i can't wait
> 
> i haven't entirely planned the next chapter, but it's probably going to involve the football game and, as always, i'd love to hear what you have to say about this chapter, because comments are pretty much my lifeblood at this point! <3


	8. football and fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex goes to a football game, and Thomas Jefferson is an asshole

Alex had never been to a football game, so he had no idea what to expect.

Lafayette had given him a school sweater to wear and he could do that much, but otherwise he was going in blind.

All he really knew was that John had skipped biology to get ready for the game, and the class had been significantly more boring than usual. He’d spent the period trying his best to take efficient notes to share with the other boy, though he wasn’t sure that he’d even managed that much; it turned out that John was a lot better in the class then Alex was.

Still, he was excited for the game; he’d made it through a week at the Washington’s and everything was going a lot better than he’d expected and, for the first time in a long time, he had things to look forward to.

The group was hanging out after the game, and Lafayette was forcing him into a weekend long Harry Potter marathon, and after that he’d be back at school, with friends in his classes and assignments that he actually enjoyed. 

For once, he was letting himself think into the future and, for once, he liked what he saw.

Of course, he knew that it could all disappear in a heartbeat, and that thought haunted him more than he wanted to admit, and there was a small chance that he was still holding the Washington’s at an arm's length, and maybe he wasn’t sleeping as well as he could be, but he kept all of that on the backburner.

As always, he would deal with it when it became an issue.

At the moment, he was sitting on the bleachers, shivering as the sun went down, with Peggy on one side of him and Lafayette on the other, and he was having fun.

He couldn’t really see the game, and he kept accidentally cheering at the wrong time, but he was having fun.

And then Thomas Jefferson appeared in front of him, blocking his already blurred view of the field, and not looking apologetic in the slightest, and his feelings soured almost immediately.

“Alex,” Thomas said, his voice taking on the same sickly sweet tone he used when they debated in class (something that was becoming ridiculously common), and Alex was about to reply in kind, but then the other boy turned to Lafayette. “ _ Laf, I haven’t seen you in ages. _ ”

If anybody was surprised by Thomas’ switch to French they didn’t show it, though he was pretty sure that Angelica snorted.

“ _ I’ve been busy, _ ” Lafayette replied, not unkindly but also sounding somewhat disinterested, though Thomas seemed to ignore that.

“ _ I hear your whole family has been busy _ ,” Thomas said, glancing towards Alex with a smile that made him clench his fists, as he felt Peggy sit up a bit straighter beside him. “Lafayette and I go way back, you know. We knew each other in  _ France _ ,” he added, apparently for Alex’s benefit.

“How nice,” Alex gritted out, heat rushing to his face, and Thomas’ smile only widened.

“Yes, it really is,” he said, and then, to Lafayette,  _ “Of course, I was under the impression that the Washington’s were a little bit more… selective with who they decided to take in, but I guess this will look good if George decides to run for President like the rumours are saying, so-” _

Thomas cut himself off with a shrug and looked to Lafayette as if he expected confirmation, and so did Alex, the difference between the two of them being that Alex was fuming.

And then Lafayette waited a moment too long to respond, and Alex felt his heart drop because that’s exactly what everybody had assured him  _ wasn’t  _ happening, but if somebody as dense as  _ Thomas Jefferson _ could see that he was being used then Alex realized that he’d gotten far too comfortable far too quickly, and then he was standing and the French was rolling off his tongue before he could stop himself.

“ _ And I was under the impression that rich people were supposed to have at least a little bit of class, but it seems like all you’ve got is a stick up your ass and a- _ ”

Alex stopped when a small hand wrapped around his arm, and then Peggy was standing beside him and with a meaningful look on her face. “Let’s go get drinks,” she said firmly, and her grip was surprisingly strong and Alex was being dragged away before he could process what was happening.

Peggy eventually stopped somewhere under the bleachers and let go of Alex’s arm, at which point he couldn’t help but check it for bruises.

“That hurt,” he exclaimed, more impressed than anything, and she smirked.

“You’re tiny, Hamilton, it was nothing,” she said, and Alex went back to fuming while she rolled her eyes. “And you were about to start a fight, which isn’t a good idea at these things.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t want to see that bag of dicks getting punched in the face?”

“I’m telling you that there are police here. No matter how awful Jefferson is, if you punch him you’re going to get arrested, and then they’ll call your case worker, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.”

“ _ Fuck _ .”

“Besides, I’ve seen Jefferson get punched at least three times before, and it’s really nothing spectacular; I mean, I don’t think it even surprises him anymore,” Peggy continued, and Alex fought back a bitter laugh. 

“He would have deserved it,” he said, still not ready to let go of his anger, even though he was grateful that Peggy had stopped him in the moment.

“You’re not wrong,” she said, and then, “You know, my dad’s kind of big in politics too, right?”

“Right,” Alex agreed, before he realized where she was going and shook his head. He didn’t need another ‘foster kids heart to heart,’ so he changed the subject. “We were going to get drinks, right? Let’s do that.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to start any more fights?”

“I would argue that Jefferson started the last one, so I’m not sure why you’re saying any  _ more _ ,” Alex pointed out, and Peggy rolled her eyes but headed for the concession, and Alex was content to follow behind.

When they got back to their seats, armed with diet coke and coke zero respectively, Alex took the seat on the end, rather than heading for his original one. Peggy gave him a look at that, but he made a point of ignoring it. If he didn’t look at Lafayette, then that was his own business.

Of course, his new seat left him with Angelica beside him, and he was quickly learning just how willing she was to share her opinions.

“Remember what I told you on Monday?” she asked, and Alex gave a half shrug as his answer. “Jefferson really isn’t worth it, alright?”

Alex didn’t have a response to that, so he kept his glare focused on the field, and only became more frustrated when he realized that he couldn’t really tell anybody apart at all. 

Their team won, but it felt hollow to Alex, though he still tried to put on a smile when John came to find them afterwards. He watched him talk to Hercules and Eliza about every play he’d made while everybody else listened in with looks of mild interest, and Alex felt out of place.

It wasn’t until they were in Lafayette’s car on their way back to the Washington’s, that Alex closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat, and actually let himself feel upset. Unfortunately, that was also when Lafayette spoke up.

“After you left, I corrected Thomas,” he said, aiming for casual but actually just sounding more uncertain then Alex had ever heard him and that, in and of itself, just made Alex more tired.

“Yeah?”

“It is complicated,” Lafayette said after a moment, and Alex figured as much, but he was hurt so he didn’t say anything. “We were friends when we were children, and our parents were friends, so…”

“Yeah,” Alex repeated himself, and this time he really did feel like an asshole. “It’s fine, Lafayette,” he said, “You really don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

“Alexander, you know what he said about you was not true,  _ oui _ ?”

Alex sidestepped that one. “Is George running for president?” he asked instead, and Lafayette sighed.

“I think it is just rumours right now,” he said, and then they were pulling up in front of the Washington’s house, and Lafayette was parking the car. “I’m sure we would know if it was anything more.”

_ Lafayette would know _ , Alex thought,  _ but there was really no reason why they would tell him anything. _

It was with that in mind, that he went straight to his room when they entered the house, not bothering to say goodnight to anybody at all. 

And then, when he got to his room and realized that he had four unread messages on his phone, he decided not to ignore them for the moment. John would be fine not knowing what Alex thought of the game, and Peggy’s ‘ _ btw im still proud of you for not punching the dick _ ’ didn’t really need a response, and neither did the eerily similar texts that he got from Angelica and Eliza.

  
Instead, he turned his phone back off, grabbed his computer, and crawled back into bed, at which point he started typing out whatever words came to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm feeling pretty indifferent towards this chapter, but the first line of the next chapter is "On Monday, Alex punched Thomas Jefferson," and that's pretty much all you need to know
> 
> and if you've read this far, let me know what you think? <3


	9. monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex punches tjeffs, and george bosses the principal around

On Monday, Alex punched Thomas Jefferson.

He didn’t mean to do it and he didn’t plan it; it just sort of… happened, and it happened in the way that it always did, and he was left with bruised knuckles and dread building up in his stomach.

The second he walked into the principal’s office, Alex knew he was toast, and that was affirmed moments later when Mr. Seabury opened his mouth and said, “I should have known you’d be trouble.”

In that moment, Alex decided that if he was going down, he’d go down fighting. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, his rage boiling back up even as he clenched his fist and was quickly reminded of how badly it hurt.

“At the moment, it means that you can wait outside while I talk to Thomas,” Mr. Seabury replied seamlessly, and Alex didn’t have to look at Jefferson to know he was gloating. “I want to get to the bottom of this without any more trouble.”

“You mean you want to get one side of the story so that you can dump all of the blame on me and Thomas can continue his happy existence up your ass?”

“Outside, Hamilton.”

“This is bull-”

“Outside. Now.”

Alex listened that time, and when he sat in the office he didn’t get any sympathetic looks from the secretary. Instead, he had to listen to her leave a message on Martha’s phone, and then call George and actually reach him, and ask him to come into the school.

Alex considered running. He was fast when he wanted to be, he had his bag with him, and he could grab his jacket on the way out. He’d be gone before the Washington’s kicked him out, and he was positive that it would hurt less.

He was still running through scenarios in his mind, when George barged into the office, looking larger than life and almost comically out of place. The secretary sat up straighter when she saw him, but George didn’t bother to look at her; his gaze landed on Alex, who felt himself shrink.

“What happened, Alexander?” George asked, sounding stormy and harsh and making all of Alex’s walls grow a mile higher, before the man sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and then continued. “If I’m going to stop you from being kicked out of school, I need to know exactly what happened.”

Alex was in the process of trying to wrap his head around that, when the door to the principal’s office swung opened, and Jefferson walked out with a swollen eye and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. The principal was only a few steps behind him, and he stopped when he saw George.

“Mr. Washington, thank you for getting here so quickly. I understand you’re very busy, but as I’m sure you understand, we don’t take violence lightly here. If you wouldn’t mind stepping into my office, I’d like to discuss Alex’s punishment?”

Alex was prepared to fight again, but one look from George stopped him.

“I’d rather talk to Alex first if it’s all the same to you- if you don’t mind, we’ll use your office,” George replied coolly, and Alex watched the color drain from Mr. Seabury’s face. “I’m sure you understand.”

“But-”

“Thank you."

They were alone in the principal’s office moments later, and Alex wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened, but before he had a chance to think on it, George repeated his original question:

“Alexander, what happened?”

And that was the question that Alex had been mulling over for the past half hour. He decided to go with the simplest answer.

“I punched Thomas Jefferson.”

George looked less than impressed. “Care to go into a bit more detail, son?” he asked, and Alex flinched.

“Don’t call me son,” he snapped before he could stop himself, noting the confusion that flashed across George’s face for half a second, before Alex continued. “Jefferson’s a racist dick. I didn’t do anything he didn’t deserve.”

George’s jaw seemed to tense, but that was the only sign of frustration that he displayed. If anything, when he spoke next his voice was even calmer than before. “Once again, I’m going to need more details, Alexander.”

_ He reminded me of the fact that I’m nothing but a pawn to you and your family, and now I can’t stand looking at any of you. He won’t stop pointing out the fact that I clearly don’t fit in here, no matter how hard I’m trying to forget. He keeps reminding me of the fact that you’re going to get tired of me soon enough, and then I’ll be on to my next home. _

All of that ran through Alex’s head, but all he ended up saying was: “He doesn’t think that I should be allowed to debate anything involving immigration because it’s ‘too personal’ for me, and I’ll get ‘too emotional.’”

“He said that in class?”

Alex nodded.

“So you punched him?” George asked, still no emotion in his voice, but with a raised eyebrow that, if Alex didn’t know any better, almost made the man look impressed.

“He had it coming,” Alex said in way of confirmation, and that got him a disapproving look from George.

“That might be true, but if we’re going to get you out of this I’m going to need you to at least pretend to be apologetic,” George instructed, and Alex furrowed his brow, more than a little bit confused by the direction the conversation had taken. “Now, it’s probably best if you wait outside while I talk to Mr. Seabury.”

The look on the principal’s face when he was called back into his own office was almost too much for Alex to handle without laughing, but then George was shooing him into the main office and he was left to sit by himself again.

The fact that George seemed to be siding with him was running through his mind and so were a millions other thoughts that Alex couldn’t really process,  so he waited, and he ended up waiting for a lot less time than he’d expected, and then the principal was opening his door and beckoning him back inside the office.

George was sitting in a chair and Alex took the one beside him, while Mr. Seabury headed back for the other side of his desk. When he got there and sat down, it looked like just being in the room was causing him physical pain, but he spoke anyways.

“You’re lucky to have Mr. Washington, Alexander,” Seabury said, with nothing kind or complimentary in his tone. “I was going to have you suspended,” he continued, “But he managed to talk me down. You’ll have detention after school every day for two weeks and I expect a written apology on my desk tomorrow morning.”

Alex went to protest the apology- he sat up straighter and an  _ ‘I have nothing to apologize for, _ ’ was on the tip of his tongue, but then George cleared his throat, and Alex knew enough to swallow back his complaints.

“That seems very fair,” George said, and Alex couldn’t bring himself to nod, but he also didn’t say anything until  he realized that both men were staring at him expectantly, at which point he forced out the one word he could think of:

“Fine.”

Mr. Seabury raised an eyebrow. “Fine?” he asked, like it was a test, and Alex was grateful when George jumped in again.

“I believe it’s another way of saying ‘yes,’” he said mildly, “It would seem that he’s agreeing with you.”

Alex didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream, so this time he just settled for shrugging when Mr. Seabury looked at him. “That is what the word means,” he confirmed, and the principal closed his eyes for half a second, before he nodded.

“Very well. Mr. Washington, I believe we’ve wasted enough of your time- and Alexander, back to class.”

All in all, Alex knew he’d gotten off way too easily. He was still on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, as he walked George out to his car and the man’s face remained stony and unreadable. Because of that, he wasn’t entirely surprised when they got to the car, finding relative privacy in the near empty parking lot, and George turned to face him.

“Alexander,” he started, saying his name like a warning, “You understand that this isn’t acceptable, correct?”

Alex pursed his lips. “Jefferson deserved it,” he said, like he had already said countless times that day, and George frowned.

“Whether or not he deserved it isn’t the point, son-”

“I’m not your son.”

“You can’t go around punching people every time they say something ignorant,” George said, ignoring Alex’s interjection entirely, “And you know that, so do you want to tell me what this was really about?”

“You don’t know anything about me or what I know.”

“Son-”

“Call me son one more time,” Alex snapped, his voice turning into a yell before he could stop himself, and then it was quiet and he got the chance to breathe and-

“This isn’t the place for this, Alexander, and I think we both need to cool down. We’ll talk at dinner tonight. I’ve got to get back to work, but if you want to go home early have Lafayette drive you and I’ll call in the absence later, alright?”

Alex blinked. They were going to talk at dinner, and this wasn’t the place for it, and-

“Why bother? If you want me gone, I’ll call Ben right now. That’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for you.”

This time George blinked, and then he was reaching out a hand and placing it on Alex’s shoulder, and Alex ducked away and stared him down. After a moment, George sighed. “Nobody wants you gone, Alex,” he said, his voice softening around the edges and sounding tired, more than anything else, “And there’s no reason for anybody to call Ben. You made a mistake today, and we’re going to talk about how to stop it from happening again; we’re not kicking you out.”

Alex bit his lip and they fell into silence because he had no idea what to say to that; he had no idea how to match the kindness and the sincerity that was spilling out of the man, so instead he just muttered, “I still don’t think it was a mistake,” and watched George fight off a laugh.

“Go to class, Alex.”

Lunch was only half way over, but Alex had a lot of processing to do, so he spent the rest of it in the library. He didn’t read and he didn’t write, but he did doodle on a piece of scrap paper, and mull over the past few days in his mind.

When he got to history, Peggy was already there. Alex sheepishly took the seat beside her, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You know,” she started, her voice drier than usual, “John and Angelica have both punched Thomas before, and they both managed to do it without any self-imposed exiles, so maybe you could take a page from their book next time?”

Alex fought back a smile at the thought of Jefferson being punched by two of his friends. “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time, Schuyler?” he asked instead, and Peggy rolled her eyes.

“I know you, Hamilton,” she shot back, and this time Alex really did smile, before the teacher started talking and their conversation turned strictly towards historical conspiracy theories.

Biology was a bit more difficult. Alex got there before John, as he always did, and when John wandered in he looked almost nervous. As usual, Alex panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

“I hear you’ve punched Jefferson?”

John blinked and then narrowed his eyes for a moment, before he dropped into his seat and turned to face Alex. “I hear we have that in common,” he said casually, and Alex fought away a blush.

“You’re football game was really cool- you played really well,” Alex tried, and this time he was sure that John almost smiled.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” he asked, and Alex was pretty sure that he was teasing him, but Alex felt his face fall anyways.

“I’m s-” he started to mutter, but before he could get the words out he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders in a weird, almost-hug, and then he was being pulled towards John and the other boy shook him gently.

“It’s cool Ham,” he said, and Alex smiled slightly at the nickname, “Anybody who punches Jefferson if a friend of mind.”

Alex laughed and leaned into the touch. When the teacher called the class to order moments later John removed his arm, but Alex felt warm and content and, thinking back on his conversation with George and then with Peggy, he also felt like he might be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a chance that punching tjeffs is a right of passage at this school and i'm 100% okay with it
> 
> next chapter is going to include heart to hearts, and after that it'll be thanksgiving which means a visit from a.burr and i'm so excited
> 
> also i feel like i should warn all of you that i haven't actually planned this fic at all? i've just kind of been going with it, so if you're expecting structure or anything close to an actual coherent story line, then you might be in the wrong place?
> 
> but if you're enjoying it let me know? <3


	10. martha's making dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex has a mini heart to heart with laf, followed by a huge heart to heart with the washingtons

After detention Alex was more than a little bit surprised to find Lafayette waiting for him in the parking lot and, when he got into the car, he was even more surprised by the first words out of the French boys mouth:

“Martha’s making dinner tonight.”

In the time he’d spent with the Washington’s, Alex didn’t think he’d actually seen anybody cook. Yes, they made toast and poured cereal and he was pretty sure he’d seen George toss a pre-made salad once, but that was the extent of their culinary expertise, and he couldn’t actually imagine Martha in the kitchen.

“Excuse me?”

“Martha is making dinner,” Lafayette repeated, slower this time, before he turned away from Alex and started the car. The music came on, blasting, but he turned it off immediately. “She only cooks when she is angry,” Lafayette continued to explain, “She is very good at it, of course- much better than George- but it is almost never a good sign. The last time she made dinner it was because she lost a case- because the judge was an imbecile, of course, not because of anything she did- but still, Martha cooking is not a good thing.”

Alex’s throat was dry, and his head was spinning with thoughts. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, and that got him a sidelong glance from Lafayette before the other boy sighed.

“Before that, the last time Martha made dinner was when marijuana was found in my locker and I was suspended for a week.”

“You- wait, what?” Alex mentally backtracked, but Lafayette waved him off.

“It was years ago, mon ami,” he said easily, sounding purposefully evasive, which was something that Alex could understand and respect, “The point is, is that they did not yell at me, and they did not kick me out, and I had technically committed a felony. They will not kick you out for this- they just want to talk to you, and you should let them.”

Alex blinked, and realized that Lafayette hadn’t actually answered the original question. “Why are you telling me this?” he tried again, and this time he was pretty sure that the French boy rolled his eyes.

“You are my friend,” he said, “Even if you have not been acting like it.” Alex flinched slightly, but Lafayette went on. “I have not been acting like it either though. I should have spoken against Thomas sooner, and I am sorry for that.”

Normally Alex didn’t do well with apologies, because they were almost always laced with pity. Lafayette’s apology, on the other hand, sounded more guilty than anything, and that didn’t seem fair, and he knew that Lafayette wasn’t the only one who needed to apologize so for once in his life he bit back his pride and sighed.

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you,” he muttered, and then, with more conviction, “But I’m not apologizing for punching Jefferson.”

Lafayette laughed at that, and Alex felt relief flood him. He thought he heard some in the French boys laugh as well, and that warmed his heart a tiny bit.

“I would never ask you to, Alexander,” he said, “According to Angelica, it was well deserved.”

They pulled into the Washington’s driveway soon after that and Lafayette continued to talk, though most of it went straight through Alex as they headed into the house. Instead, he focused on everything he’d been told that day:

George didn’t want him gone- he’d said that nobody did. Lafayette had echoed the sentiment, and Alex almost believed it.

And then there was the fact that Martha was cooking.

As soon as they walked inside, Alex noticed. He couldn’t quite place what the house smelt like, but it smelt delicious and he barely had a chance to register that before the woman in question came barrelling down the hall with a stern look on her face, and didn’t stop until she was standing in front of him with her palm outstretched.

“Hand,” was all she said, and Alex had no idea what that meant but he took an automatic step back, and that seemed to soften Martha for half a second, before she clenched her jaw and sighed. “You punched somebody today and I doubt you’ve seen a doctor since, so I’d like to make sure nothing’s broken.”

Alex glanced to Lafayette who only shrugged, so he held out his hand without protest and without saying a word. He didn’t think it would be a good time to point out that he’d punched loads of people before, and that he hadn’t broken his hand yet. Instead, he bit his lip and stayed silent, while Martha poked and prodded at his bruising knuckles.

“Ice,” she finally declared, and then headed for the kitchen without another word.

Lafayette waved for Alex to follow, so that’s what he did, and he was only a tiny bit relieved when Lafayette followed behind him. When he got to the kitchen, he was met with the sight of George, looking exhausted, sitting on a barstool at the island, while Martha retrieved a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. George sat up a bit straighter when he entered, while Martha simply handed him the peas, and then nodded towards the table.

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” she said, and then, “We’ll talk after. Gilbert, set the table, please.”

Martha had made pasta, and there was salad and garlic bread to go with it and it was all delicious which, Alex thought, made it slightly less awkward that they ate in almost complete silence. Once the plates were empty, George turned to Lafayette.

“You must have some homework to get started on, right Gilbert?” he asked, and Lafayette glanced towards Alex, who shrugged, before he nodded.

“Oui,” the French boy said, but he turned to Alex before he did anything. “ _ I can stay if you want? _ ”

Alex considered it, but then he realized that, no matter what the Washington’s had to say to him, he probably didn’t want his friend to overhear it.  _ “It’s fine _ ,” he replied, and Lafayette studied him for a moment, before he nodded and left.

Alex focused his attention back on his plate, and played with his fork. After a moment, he heard George sigh.

“I told Martha what happened today, and we both agree that this is something we need to talk about,” he started, and Alex nodded. He’d seen couples try the united front thing before and, as far as intimidation tactics went, it left something to be desired. Of course, he also wasn’t entirely sure that the Washington’s were trying to intimidate him, and he had no idea what to make of that. “Is there anything you think we should know?”

That seemed like a test, and it was one that Alex was more than happy to fail. “I’m still not sorry that I punched him,” he said, but apparently that was a fight that the Washington’s weren’t willing to have, because they didn’t even react to it.

Instead, George posed another question: “Does this happen often?”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Have you read my file yet?” he asked, instead of actually answering, and when George shook his head he let out a laugh that was more than a little bit vindictive. “Well then it’s your fault that you didn’t see this coming.”

“Mr. Seabury has read it,” George continued, apparently ignoring the last comment as well, “And he seems to think that you’re prone to violence. He thinks you look for fights where there aren’t any.”

“And you think so too?” Alex demanded, all anger and sharp edges, while George sighed again.

“If today is anything to go by, then definitely not,” he said, and that answer was enough to stun Alex into a temporary silence. “There was a fight to be had, but that doesn’t mean it should have ended with physical violence, Alex. Has anybody ever told you to choose your battles?”

It sounded like a rhetorical question, but a, “Yes,” slipped out of Alex’s mouth before he could stop it, and then, “I didn’t listen to them, and I don’t plan on.”

“So you’re going to punch everybody you disagree with?”

“I can try.”

They seemed to reach a stalemate there, which was broken when Martha leaned forward and cleared her throat.

“Alex,” she started, her voice calm in a way that sounded practiced, “Have you put any thought into what you want to do after high school?”

_ About a million different things, but none that I’ll ever actually get to do, _ he thought to himself, but he just shrugged and stuck with the most realistic option available to him: “Join the army, probably.”

George looked like he was going to speak, but one look from his wife silenced him. “Do you think they’ll let you in with a criminal record?” she asked, and Alex shrugged again, looking at the table instead of making eye contact. “Because if you keep this up, that’s what’s going to happen. I see it happen every day; smart kids do stupid things, and they eat away at their potential until there’s nothing left. You owe yourself more than that, Alex.”

Alex couldn’t remember the last time anybody had talked about him and potential in the same sentence, but he tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and tried to summon the venom that seemed to have left him entirely, as he asked, “Why do you care?”

Martha’s gaze was as fierce as ever, but it was George who replied. “We want you to succeed, and we want what’s best for you, Alex,” he said and then, like he knew that it wasn’t enough of an answer, he continued. “We also understand that it’s hard for you to believe that, but it’s the truth and it’s not going to change, no matter what you do.”

Alex looked from George to Martha, marvelling at their sincerity and hating them for the naivety of it all. “I thought you said you don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he spat at George, but his voice shook and he realized in that moment that he really, really wanted to be wrong.

“I don’t,” George said, “And I hope that you realize it eventually.”

Alex didn’t say anything to that, and after a moment Martha spoke. “Caring about people isn’t conditional, Alex,” she said, and added with a small grin, “No matter how many people you punch.”

“That being said,” George jumped in, “We would appreciate it if you refrained from punching.”

Alex bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ll try,” is what he decided on, and that got him a raised eyebrow from George.

“Have you ever considered some alternative coping mechanisms?” he asked, and Alex thought about his writing but he brushed that off and shrugged, going for casual and aloof.

“So far punching people’s worked out fine for me,” he said, and that got him a nod from George, that he couldn’t quite read.

“Next time you feel the need to fight somebody, do me a favour and count to ten first,” George said, and Alex felt his eyebrows shoot up. “If that doesn’t work, just walk away and call one of us. We’ll come get you.”

As far as advice went, it wasn’t the worst piece that Alex had ever received, so he nodded.

A few moments later, Martha raised an eyebrow. “I head you have an apology letter to write?” she asked, and Alex’s long groan got a small laugh out of her. “We won’t keep you from that, then.”

It took him three drafts before he had a letter that could reasonably be called an apology and that he could hand in to Seabury without fear of further punishment, and by the time he was done it was still early in the evening. Because of that, he didn’t feel bad about crossing the hall and knocking of Lafayette’s door. When he realized that the other boy was in bed watching Netflix, he only hesitated for half a second before he crawled in beside him and asked what they were watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fact that i've written 10 chapters of this and almost 20k in a week is a miracle, but you can expect there to be a few days between the updates for a while, because i'm working and i've got exams and stuff coming up so yeahh
> 
> but next chapter is featuring aaron burr and i'm so excited
> 
> and honestly your comments give me life y'all are the sweetest and i hope you enjoyed this! <3


	11. aaron burr, sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> burr comes home and gives shitty advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare yourself for 500000 shitty references to the musical, because i couldn't stop myself, okay?

As it turned out, the last day of Alex’s detentions coincided with the last day of classes before the Thanksgiving break.

Because of that, he was a lot happier than usual when he left the school an hour after everybody else and, when he saw Lafayette, Hercules, and John waiting for him in the parking lot, he slid into the backseat of Laf’s car with a smile on his face. He barely questioned how normal it all felt, and nobody had given him reason to in a while.

“Alexander Hamilton, a free man once again,” John all but sang, with a teasing smile on his face and a light elbow to Alex’s ribs, “How does it feel?”

“Better than you could imagine,” Alex replied earnestly, more than a little bit relieved to be done with the whole ordeal because, as it turned out, sitting in an empty classroom for an hour every day and not being allowed to talk, work, or write, was just about as close to hell as he wanted to imagine.

“Trust me when I say, we can imagine,” Hercules piped in from the front, “We’re just as relieved to be done listening to you complain about detention.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’d be complaining too if you had to-”

“Put up with the tyranny of detention, yes, we know,” Hercules cut in, while Lafayette and John barely stifled laughs.

When Alex pouted, Lafayette threw a patronizing smile back at him. “Perhaps ‘tyranny’ is a bit dramatic, Alexander,” he said, with most of his attention focused on the road in front of them, at which point Alex realized that he had no idea where they were going and, when he asked, Lafayette’s smile only grew. “To the airport, remember  _ mon ami _ ? Martha asked us to pick up Aaron?”

“When-” Alex was about to claim ignorance, before he remembered the conversation around the dinner table a few days ago and closed his gaping mouth. “I forgot,” he settled on, his cheeks flushing a little bit despite himself.

“Well I didn’t,” John jumped in, and Alex turned with a raised eyebrow to see a broad smile on his face. “A-a-ron has been gone for far too long,” he said, and when Alex’s brows furrowed at the obvious mispronunciation of the name, John gasped. “Wait, have you not seen that video?”

Alex shrugged, and John pulled out his phone. They spent the rest of the car ride watching said video, which turned out to be hilarious, though Alex only really focused half his attention on it. The other half went to thinking about Aaron Burr, and all of the things he’d been told about him over the past few days.

According to Martha, Aaron Burr was smart, had ‘a good head on his shoulders,’ and was ‘kinder than he lets on.’ On more than one occasion George brought up the fact that Aaron had been accepted to Princeton at age 16, and was currently excelling there. Lafayette was the only one who didn’t have much to say about him, other than that he was ‘funnier than you’d expect,’ and ‘like a weird brother who smiles no matter what you do, but in a weird way.’

They also mentioned that Aaron Burr had been a foster kid, and the ‘like you’ had hung in the air after that conversation.

The one thing that nobody had told him about Aaron Burr was how he’d had become a foster kid and, after that, how he’d managed to get accepted to Princeton, how he was affording it, and how he seemed to be living the dream that Alex had given up on a long time ago. It was also the only thing Alex really wanted to know about the other boy, and he was determined to figure it out.

He was also determined to like Aaron Burr, and he was determined to make the other boy like him.

Because of that, when they pulled into the airport only to realize that parking was a complete and utter mess, he offered to go wait by baggage claim while the others stayed in the car. Of course, the illogic of that was realized quickly as, out of everybody there, he was the only one who didn’t actually know Aaron Burr, which is why John slid out of the car beside him, and the two of them headed inside together.

And then they were inside and it was ridiculously crowded, and after they found the area they were sure Burr would be in, they lasted about thirty seconds before John decided that they needed coffee, and left Alex waiting for Aaron while he went to find some. Alex hadn’t quite mastered the art of sleeping at the Washington’s, so he wasn’t in a position to turn down the coffee. Instead, he focused in the terminal and squinted his eyes, trying to look for the face he’d only seen in pictures, in the crowd of people that was suddenly heading for him.

And then he saw a boy, about his height with dark skin and a shaved head, with a practiced look of indifference on his face, and Alex was almost positive that he was Aaron Burr, so he started pushing through the crowd, ignoring the irritated looks it got him, until he was an arm’s length away and he reached out to tap the boy’s shoulder.

“Pardon me- you’re Aaron Burr, right?” he asked, trying to keep any excitement out of his voice, and smiling when Possibly Aaron Burr only raised his eyebrows.

“That depends,” he said, arms crossed over his chest, “Who’s asking?”

“Oh right- I’m Alexander Hamilton- I’m staying with the Washington’s? I’m a foster kid? Did they tell you about me?” Alex asked, one question after another as doubt started to seep into him, before he shook it off. “Never mind, that’s not important- you’re at Princeton, right?”

“Yes,” Aaron Burr said decidedly and then added, “To both of your questions. Martha’s told me a lot about you- I just didn’t expect you to be the one picking me up from here, but it’s good to meet you.”

The answer seemed practiced and calculated, but Alex brushed that off. “Right, of course,” he said instead, “Martha got held up at work, but Lafayette is in the car- parking was just really bad so he decided to send me in- well, me and John, but John went to find coffee so we should probably wait for him- do you have any bags to grab?”

“I’m only here for the weekend, so I only brought this,” Aaron explained, holding up his carry on, and then asked: “John Laurens is here?” and when Alex nodded he sighed, though Alex was almost positive that the corner of his mouth was tilting upwards. “I suppose the whole gang is here, then.”

Alex nodded and, when Aaron didn’t say anything else, he bit his lip and decided to ask again: “You go to Princeton, right?”

Aaron nodded.

“You got in when you were 16?”

Aaron nodded again, this time with an expression on his face that could only be read as, ‘ _ so? _ ’ so Alex got to the point:

“How did you do that?” he asked, and if Aaron thought it was strange, then he didn’t show it.

“I worked hard for it,” he answered simply enough, and then, “My parents went to school there, and it was all they ever wanted for me. When they died, I made it happen.”

“You’re an orphan,” Alex realized and subsequently blurted out before he could stop himself, and then backtracked as quickly as he could, “I’m an orphan too- well, sort of- my dad’s still alive but he doesn’t want anything to do with me- he didn’t even come to my mom’s funeral- he left like, as soon as we got to America- it’s a long story, but you were a foster kid too, right?”

“Right.”

“It’s just so cool that you’re at Princeton then- and you’re doing so well- it’s just, it’s crazy, you know? It’s like, nobody expects anything from us- we just get lost in the system and the families are just- well, you know- but you’re doing well anyways, and I just-”

“Alexander,” Aaron interrupted, and Alex cut himself off immediately, “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Of course,” Alex said immediately, and that got a bit of a smile out of Aaron before-

“Talk less.”

“Excuse me?”

“You seem smart; you’ll be fine, but if you run around shouting from rooftops people are going to be threatened, and they won’t like you. If they don’t like you, you’re not going to get anywhere. You need to talk less, and try smiling a bit more- you need to make yourself likeable.”

Alex’s brow furrowed and, in a matter of seconds, he was re-evaluating everything, before he shook his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, which were still trained on Aaron’s. “You can’t be serious,” he said, and Aaron looked like he was about to reply before John’s voice interrupted them.

“Burr, are you insulting Hamilton already?” he asked, coming up from behind Alex and offering him a paper cup, which Alex accepted gratefully.

“I think he called me unlikeable,” Alex said, a little bit offended when he realized that John didn’t actually look surprised.

Instead, John shrugged and said, “I like you just fine,” before he turned to Burr and asked, “Is that any way to talk to your new brother?”

Alex jumped in with a, “I’m not his brother,” at the same time that Burr rolled his eyes and said, “I didn’t mean it like that,” and John looked between the two of them for a moment before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“Alright, alright, whatever you kids say- now come on, I’m sure Laf’s hit at least five cars in the time we’ve been gone.”

Alex sent one last, narrow-eyed glare towards Burr, before he followed after John.

When they got to the car, John slid in first and Alex followed, watching as Burr rolled his eyes and complained about not getting the front seat. Hercules didn’t budge, and Alex made a point of sitting closer to John than Burr, though his irritation at the other boy quickly faded away, as he listened to his friends poke fun at the other boy, with genuine affection in their voices.

For his part, Aaron rolled his eyes a lot and had more sarcastic comebacks than Alex thought possible, but he also bit back a lot of smiles and Alex could tell that he was enjoying himself. By the time they were back at the Washington’s, Alex had fallen into the banter and the jokes, and he was enjoying himself as well, and decided that Aaron Burr deserved a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exams are killing me and studying is hard, and somehow writing this chapter was even harder? once again i wrote like 5 different versions before deciding on this one, so enjoy!
> 
> next chapter is actual thanksgiving festivities, which means i need to research what americans actually do on thanksgiving, so wish me luck!


	12. sweet potato casserole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanksgiving shenanigans with the washington's and their gang of orphans

Alex’s first Thanksgiving in America had involved a day in the park with his mother, followed by leftover turkey from the party she’d had work the day before. Despite his father’s absence, it had been a great day.

Seven Thanksgivings had passed since then, and none of them had been particularly memorable.

First, his father had officially left, and then his mother had died, and then the string of foster homes had started and, as it turned out, the majority of families that he stayed with were less than thrilled about having him around for their holidays. 

At most, he’d take a few family pictures for them, sit in the corner and watch football, and then make up some bullshit about what he was thankful for at the table. The worst had been last year, when he’d forgotten about the holiday altogether and hadn’t actually realized that it was Thanksgiving until he’d already walked to school, only to find the doors locked.

Because of that, his expectations for spending the holiday with the Washington’s were understandably low.

Of course, Lafayette didn’t let that last very long.

As usual, Alex hadn’t exactly slept well the night before, so when Laf came banging on his door, before letting himself into the room, at 8:00 in the morning, all Alex did was groan and bury himself further into his blankets. It felt like he’d just fallen asleep and, when he said as much, he could practically hear Lafayette roll his eyes.

“Mon ami, you can sleep for the rest of your life- but you need to have breakfast  _ now  _ so you’re hungry again later,” he insisted, and Alex groaned again, but when he tried to use a pillow to shield his face, Laf pulled it away. “You do not want to miss out on Aaron’s cooking- he is brilliant, Alexander.”

At that, Alex didn’t feel any more excited, but curiousity did strike him. “Fine,” he relented, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Lafayette narrowed his eyes at him, before he nodded and pushed himself off Alex’s bed, all but skipping towards the door. “If you are not, I will be back,” he said, and Alex couldn’t tell if it was a promise or a threat, but it was enough to get him moving once the door swung shut

Five minutes later, he shuffled his way downstairs, the smells wafting from the kitchen acting as encouragement; bacon and coffee, and something else that he couldn’t quite name. His stomach growled, and he silently thanked Lafayette for having woken him up.

When he actually got the the kitchen, he was grateful to see that, besides Lafayette, everybody else looked tired as well. 

He also noticed that, while everybody was in the kitchen, Aaron was the only one cooking, and briefly wondered whether or not he should be doing more to help out himself. 

Because of that, after he’d helped himself to a cup of coffee, Alex offered to help set the table, getting slightly confused but not displeased looks from the Washington’s in the process, and soon enough they were all sitting around the table, enjoying the delicious food.

And, of course, the celebrations weren’t over after that.

Almost as soon as he’d eaten his last bite, Lafayette grabbed Alex’s arm and all but dragged him to the TV, with Aaron following closely behind.

“The parade is his favourite part,” Aaron explained, with a sidelong glance towards Lafayette, that just missed exasperated.

“Yes, well, we can’t all be Master Chef’s, can we, Aaron?” Lafayette shot back, and Aaron rolled his eyes but didn’t seem put out at all.

“I make dinner,” he explained to Alex, and Alex nodded like that made any sense at all, while really trying to figure out what kind of 19 year old made Thanksgiving dinner. Apparently noting the confusion anyways, Aaron added, “My parents valued independence in all forms,” and that at least explained some of it

In French, Laf muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “ _ My parents, on the other hand, valued not having a stick up my ass, _ ” and Alex couldn’t help but laugh.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “You speak French?” he asked, and Alex nodded

“ _ Oui _ ,” he added for good measure, before he caught onto Laf’s smirk and decided to play along, “ _ Do you not? _ ”

Once again, Aaron rolled his eyes. “That’s very impressive,” he said, evenly, and then, “You should consider taking it as an elective at your school; if you’re fluent, you’ll get a good mark easily, and that’ll look good on college applications. You seemed interested in Princeton?”

That was enough to catch Alex off guard, and and sputtered before he ended up saying, “Uh yeah, I’ll definitely consider that,” and turning to face the TV. If the other boys thought it was a weird reaction, Alex didn’t pay enough attention to notice it, and that was fine by him.

A few hours later, Alex was curled up in the same spot on the couch, with Lafayette sprawled across the rest of it and George and Martha sharing a love seat, while the smells of Aaron’s cooking filtered through the rest of the house.

A football game was on TV, he was pretty sure that Laf had fallen asleep an hour ago, every once in awhile Martha or George offered to help Aaron (and were promptly turned down), and it all felt a lot like home.

For his part, Alex had no idea what was going on on the TV in front of him, and George and Martha’s explanations had long since turned into cheers and exclamations that hardly made any sense.

Because of that, Alex decided that he didn’t really have a choice; he needed to consult a football expert, and John was the only football player that he knew, so he had to text John.

He thought long and hard, before he typed out, ‘ _ I have a Very Serious and Very Important question to ask, and you aren’t allowed to make fun of me for it.’ _

Alex was used to John replying right away so, when a minute or two passed and he didn’t get a response, he started to think of something else to send, when a message appeared: ‘ _ whatever the question is _ ,  _ the answer is yes.’ _

Alex let out a startled laugh, waved off George and Martha’s questioning looks, and then focused back on the phone. ‘ _ Your faith in me is astounding, but you don’t even know what the question is,’  _ he sent, and smiled when the typing icon appeared.

_ ‘doesn’t matter- still a yes.’ _

‘ _ Okay, good to know, _ ’ Alex sent, and then, ‘ _ But the question isn’t really a yes or no one?’ _

_ ‘well then, let’s here it, ham, _ ’ John sent back, and Alex smiled as he replied.

_ ‘What exactly is the point of football? Also, how do you win? Also, I feel like a lot of these players must have concussions? This game definitely doesn’t look safe? But also, if you kind of think about it, it’s sort of like a super intense version of chess, right?’ _

After Alex sent that, he realized his mistake and quickly sent, ‘ _Sorry- I went overboard._ _You only really have to answer the first two,_ ’ before considered turning his phone off and burning it forever.

Before he had a chance to either of those things, his phone buzzed with a reply. 

_ ‘jesus christ ham, you really didn’t pay attention to my game, did you? _ ’ and then, ‘ _ though you were busy fighting jefferson, which is just about the best excuse i’ve ever heard, so it’s cool _ ,’ and then, ‘ _ basically you gotta get the ball to the other side of the field to get points, and whoever gets the most points wins _ .’

‘ _ Right, _ ’ Alex sent, ‘ _ That makes sense… Thanks Laurens! _ ’

_ ‘np my dude,’ _ was the response he got, followed by, ‘ _ other than being baffled by football, how’s your thanksgiving going?’ _

Alex smiled to himself, more than a little pleased that John seemed to want to continue the conversation.

_ ‘It’s great! _ ’ he sent, surprisingly honest, and then,  _ ‘Did you know that Burr can cook? _ ’

_ ‘i’m pretty sure that if burr had it his way, the entire world would know that he can cook _ ,’ came John’s reply, and then, ‘ _ you’ve got to try his sweet potato casserole though, _ ’ and then, ‘ _ i was at the washington’s for thanksgiving last year and i almost fought gwash for the last of it _ .’

Alex bit his lip and tried to think up a subtle way of asking John why he’d spent Thanksgiving with the Washington’s, before he settled on, ‘ _ I’ll be sure to try it! _ ’ and then, ‘ _ You didn’t want to have any yourself this year?’ _

John reply read, ‘ _ nah, decided to leave it to you folks this year,’ _ followed by, ‘ _ why- do you miss me, ham?’  _ and Alex felt his face heat up as he re-read the words to make sure he’d gotten them right.

And then he blinked down at the phone and tried and tried and tried to think of what to say next, because he’d spent the past week almost certain that John was flirting with him but this left almost no room for misinterpretation, and he was frozen, still staring at the screen when he heard someone clear their throat and-

“Alex, honey, Aaron just called us to dinner,” Martha said, and when he looked up he saw that her, George, and Lafayette were all staring at him.

“Oh- right,” Alex said, standing up abruptly and clearing his throat, both actions doing nothing to wipe the smirk off of Lafayette’s face. “I got- distracted,” he finished with, and Lafayette only grinned wider.

“Yes, John can be very distracting,” he said with an exaggerated wink, that made Alex freeze in place. He’d come out to his friends, yes, but the Washington’s were something else entirely. Luckily, Laf seemed to notice that almost immediately, and covered his tracks accordingly, “But the food smells delicious- let us go eat, before Aaron starts to feel underappreciated.”

Alex threw him the closest look to gratitude that he could muster, and something in Laf’s eyes told him that the conversation wasn’t over between them, but he headed for the dining room anyways.

The food looked delicious and far more than what any 19 year old college student should be able to make, and Aaron was looking at it with more pride than Alex had ever felt in his life. 

Because of that, Alex was ready to dig in and show the food just as much appreciation, when another cleared throat stopped him. When he looked up, George wasn’t bothering to hide his amusement.

“We normally skip the prayer, but we do have a few other holiday traditions,” he explained, and Alex felt his stomach drop because he knew what was happening, and he knew he was going to have to play along. “We like to go around and each say what we’re grateful for,” George finished, and Alex nodded.

Martha volunteered to go first, and kept it short and simple: “I’m grateful for the home that George and I have built, and for all of the wonderful people we get to share it with,” she said, squeezing her husband's hand and smiling at the rest of them, and Alex looked away when her eyes landed on him.

Aaron was sitting to her left, so he went next: “I’m grateful for the opportunities that I’ve been given, and where they’ve taken me.”

Lafayette snorted, and covered it with a cough. When Aaron raised an eyebrow at that, Lafayette waved him off, and then it was his turn: “I’m grateful for the time that I got to spend with my parents, and for the time I get to spend with my new family in America,” he said, and Alex bit his lip.

He was sitting beside Lafayette so it was his turn, and he was tempted to just say ‘same,’ and hope that it was enough, but he knew it wouldn’t be.

And the thing was, was that, in the past few weeks, he’d been more grateful for everything that the Washington’s had done for him, than he had been for anything in the rest of his life combined. 

Since his father left and his mother died, he’d had nothing; families that forgot about him time and time again, and old clothing and shared beds, and an assortment of teachers and social workers who thought of him as nothing but a job to be done, and he’d spent the whole time alone.

With the Washington’s, it was different.

They cared about him, and he was still terrified that it would be taken away from him at any minute, but he couldn’t say that.

Now wasn’t the time for that; now was the time to be thankful and grateful, and to think about the things he had and, at the moment, he had more than he’d ever had before.

There was no good way to say that out loud, and Alex still wasn’t sure that he wanted to. 

If he said it out loud, it was real.

If it was real, it would hurt more when it got taken away.

Because of that, he bit his lip, fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater, and shrugged. “I’m grateful for this food- it looks great,” he said, in what was likely the shortest speech he’d ever given, and he really was grateful when George chuckled beside him.

“It really does- you’ve outdone yourself this year, Aaron,” he said, before adding, “I’m grateful for it as well- and I’m also grateful for the wonderful people that we get to share it with, and for the presence of each of you in my life.”

  
Again, Alex made a point of not making eye contact, which worked out fine because, before he knew what was really happening, food was being served and people were eating, and he went straight for what he assumed was the sweet potato casserole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @everybody who helped me with thanksgiving- y'all are stars.. and i tried my best but i also said 'fuck it' and sort of just turned it into what my canadian ass does for thanksgiving with the fam, so
> 
> but there should be another chapter up tomorrow, and i think i've actually got the rest of the fic planned out! it's honestly going to be an angst filled roller coaster and idk if i'm ready, but if everything goes according to plan, alex will have himself a boyfriend in 6 chapters (and like after that there's still a ways to go, but it's something to look forward to!) :)


	13. politics at the table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the Thanksgiving weekend would have passed by uneventfully, if not for three conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's so much dialogue in this chapter and alex does so much blinking i just don't know, okay?

The rest of the Thanksgiving weekend would have passed by uneventfully, if not for three conversations.

The first occurred on Thursday, after dinner. Alex was lying in his bed, trying to find a position that put the least amount of pressure on his full stomach as possible, when Laf let himself into the room.

Apparently already recovered from the copious amounts of food he’d consumed, Lafayette flung himself onto his stomach beside Alex, and turned his face towards him. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“You’re never going to knock again, are you?” he asked, and the half of Laf’s face that wasn’t pressed into the mattress broke out into a huge smile.

“Never,” he confirmed, “It would be impossible to stage dramatic entrances and knock at the same time,  _ mon ami. C’est la vie _ .”

Alex snorted at the phrase, and then rolled over and leaned towards his nightstand, grabbing his laptop in the process. “I got to season three last night, but we can backtrack if you want,” he said, assuming that Laf was there to watch Scandal, at which Laf waved him off.

“No, no,” he said, “I am here about something more important than Olivia Pope.”

Once again, Alex raised an eyebrow. “There’s something more important than Olivia Pope?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, though Laf seemed intent on doing the opposite. “Don’t let George here you say that.”

Laf rolled his eyes and, once again, waved Alex off. “Alexander,” he started, looking at him through narrowed eyes that seemed more scrutinizing than anything, “I owe you an apology.”

Alex blinked.

“I made you uncomfortable with my comment about John,” Laf continued, “And that was not my intention. I sometimes forget that not everybody is as-  _ how you say _ \-  _ out  _ as I am, but that is no excuse. I am truly sorry.”

Alex blinked again and, when he realized that he should probably say something, he spat out the first thing he could think of: “It’s fine.”

Of course, he knew that wasn’t true and Laf seemed to get that as well, and Laf waved it off immediately.

“It is not, and you do not have to worry about it happening again,” he said firmly, and Alex nodded.

“I- thank you,” he finally settled on, and then, “And it really is okay- I mean, it’s not that I’m ashamed of being bi or anything, you know? It’s just- the Washington’s- I-” he finished with a shrug, and hoped that Laf would understand.

“For what it is worth,” Laf started, “Martha and George would not care- they have known that I am pansexual for as long as I have, and they have never been anything but supportive."

Alex nodded to that, because he wasn’t sure what else he could do. 

And the proclamation did ease some of the bile that had raised in his stomach and some of the worries that he’d grown used to existing somewhere in the back of his mind, but he also still wasn’t sure how to broach that topic and he hated being at a loss for words, so he was grateful when Laf kept going.

“Of course,” Laf continued, “You do not have to tell them anything and now you know that I will not tell them anything either- I just want you to know that you will be safe here no matter what.”

Alex swallowed and nodded and, just like that, Lafayette lightened up and, with the conversation over and the topic changed, Alex did too. They did end up watching a few episodes of Scandal that night, before Laf excused himself to bed and Alex went through the similar motions, pretending to do the same.

He lasted all of five minutes lying in the dark, trying to trick himself into sleeping, before he got to the point where his mind felt like it was going to explode if he didn’t tell somebody every last thing inside of it. Of course, that wasn’t an option and he knew it, so he grabbed his computer and opened a new document and typed, ‘To George and Martha,’ at the top of it, before he did what he always did, and wrote a letter that he knew he was never going to send.

The second conversation happened on Sunday at lunch, after Aaron had set the table with homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, that everybody eyed appreciatively.

It was only when Alex finished eating and went to excuse himself, with the intent on finishing his homework, that George cleared his throat and asked him to stay for a minute.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said, and Alex froze because, no matter how many times he heard those words, he would never stop panicking at them. Apparently George noticed that, because he continued quickly, adding, “It’s nothing to worry about, though- it’s a good thing, I hope,” and Alex nodded and sat back down, only slightly calmer.

Once Alex was sitting, George looked to Martha. Once Martha nodded, he kept talking.

“Before I say anything else, I want you three to know that this decision isn’t going to change anything in regards to our relationships with you; Aaron, you will still be welcome here anytime, and we’ll always be here to help you in every way possible. The same goes for you, Lafayette; we see you as a son, and that will never change. And for you, Alex, we plan on keeping you here for as long as you want to stay, no matter what happens after today.”

The speech paused there, and Lafayette interrupted, narrowed eyes with a touch of fear in them. “Are you dying?” he asked, blunt as ever, and George looked startled for half a second, before he started laughing and Martha did too.

“I will take that as a no,  _ oui _ ?” Lafayette prompted, still not convinced, and when their laughter subsided, George waved away the worry.

“I’m not dying, son,” he said, chuckling one last time, before he let out a sigh and said, “I’m running for president.”

Once again, Alex froze. The only difference was, was that this time it seemed like everybody else in the room did as well, at least for half a second, before Lafayette broke the silence in the lazy way that he seemed to have mastered.

“Is that all?” he asked, not even raising an eyebrow, which did get a raised eyebrow from George.

“Forgive me for thinking that this was a big deal,” the man replied wryly, which got a snort out of Martha.

“I told you Gil would be fine with it,” she said, and then, in response to the exasperated glare that George sent her, “Of course, that’s not to say that this isn’t a very big deal, because it is a very, very big deal.”

George snorted. “Thank you, dear,” he said, with absolutely no sincerity, though he really did smile when Martha reached out to squeeze his hand, and Alex found the whole thing to be a tiny bit absurd.

They were discussing his presidential candidacy over grilled cheese.

Apparently Alex wasn’t the only one baffled by the whole situation because, moments later, Aaron cleared his throat.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” he said, and that seemed about right, if not weirdly formal considering the loving prequel to George’s announcement, but George merely nodded.

“Thank you son,” he said and then, with a barely concealed smile, “I’m sure there’ll be a spot for you working the campaign this summer, if you’re looking for a job.”

At that, Aaron beamed, and Alex was almost positive that it was the first time he’d seen the boy look so outwardly happy- or display emotions in any forward fashion at all, really.

Of course, with everybody else’s reactions out of the way, all eyes at the table fell on Alex, and Alex was acutely aware of that, so he swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, “Isn’t King running for re-election?” before he could stop himself.

George smiled indulgently. “I believe so, though he hasn’t officially announced it.”

“He won by a landslide four years ago- assuming you win the primary, do you actually think you can beat him?” Alex continued, and then, “Also, aren’t we not supposed to talk about politics at the table?”

Martha smiled at that. “I figured we could make an exception this time,” she said kindly, and then, almost sounding impressed, “You followed the last election?”

Alex nodded. “I’m just saying, that winning this would take nothing short of a miracle- I mean, King’s got the GOP wrapped around his finger, and the far right treat him like he’s the messiah.” Nobody spoke for a moment, before Aaron cleared his throat and Alex realized that there was a chance he’d been a tiny bit rude, at which point he backtracked to- “But what Aaron said- congratulations, and all that.”

Once again, there was silence until it was interrupted, this time by George bursting out into laughter. Once he recovered he said, “I appreciate the honesty,” and then, “And I feel the same way, but the only other crucial member of my party running is Adams, and people seem to think I have a better chance than him.”

At the mention of John Adams, Alex saw red. “That’s because John Adams is a fat motherfucker who-”

He was cut off by a pointed cough, this time coming from Martha. “Language, Alexander,” she reminded him, and he sighed.

“I’m just saying, he’s just as bad as King.”

Once again, George chuckled. “I’ll deny agreeing with you if it ever gets out, but you’re not wrong,” he said, and Alex couldn’t help but grin slightly. “That being said, Alex, we mean it when we say that this doesn’t change anything for you. I’ll be away a bit more than usual, and I’ll be on television a lot more, but Martha will be staying here for work, and you and Gilbert will be staying in school, and you won’t have to do anything for the campaign at all, if that’s what you want.”

At that, Alex just nodded. He could talk policies and politics as good as anybody else in the world but, as it turned out, he still wasn’t entirely sure what to do with personal sentiments.

Still, the last part of George’s statement caught Alex’s attention and he couldn’t help but fall back on his original fear when he’d come to live with the Washington’s, and-

“I don’t have to do anything for the campaign at all?”

George nodded. “One word to my campaign manager, and you’ll be out of the press almost entirely.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Still, you adopting two orphans and fostering me must look pretty good.”

Hurt washed over Martha and Alex found himself regretting the words the second they were out of his mouth, but George didn’t even flinch. 

“You’re not wrong,” he said, agreeing with Alex and shocking him in the process, even as he continued, “But that isn’t the reason why you’re living here, and if anybody else besides you were to suggest that, I would have kicked them out of my home by now.”

Alex swallowed down his guilt, but he couldn’t find any of his usual pride to take its place, and George kept talking.

“I don’t particularly want to be president to begin with, but I also don’t see another choice. King needs to be taken down, and my party thinks I’m the one to do it. I’m doing this as a favor to them and, hopefully, to the country I’ve been serving for thirty years, but I promise you that taking you in has not been a political ploy, and that is never going to change.”

In that moment, Alex did something that he almost never did and, though he didn’t make eye contact with anybody and he fiddled with his sleeve the entire time, he apologized.

He muttered something about knowing that George was right, and he wasn’t sure what else he said but he did know that he agreed with all of it, and he was grateful when Martha cleared her throat a moment later.

“It’s all a lot to take in,” she said graciously, “But what’s important right now is that you three know to come to us with any questions or hang-up’s that you have, no matter what else is going on. We’ll be here for you throughout the whole thing and, no matter what happens, you three will come first to us.”

Alex nodded again, and Aaron did too, and Laf said something about them all being over dramatic, and then the conversation moved on.

The third conversation occurred Sunday evening, when Alex and Laf drove Aaron back to the airport. Once again, the parking was terrible, so Alex went inside with Aaron, while Laf waited in the car.

Aaron stopped walking once they got to security, and turned to Alex with a strange look on his normally impassive face.

“You know,” he said, “The Washington’s never actually adopted me."

Alex blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“My parents died when I was fifteen, and the Washington’s fostered me. They wanted to adopt me, but doing so would have caused problems with my inheritance, so we all decided against it.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Aaron said with a sigh, “They’re good people. You may have noticed that I prefer to be independent in most ways, and they’ve respected that throughout the years, but they also haven’t abandoned me, or left me to my own devices, which they could have easily done when I turned 18. They’ve helped me, and they’d do the same for you, if you’d just let them.”

This time Alex just nodded, and Aaron took a step back with a knowing smile on his face.

“Anyways,” he said, “I’ve got to go if I’m going to catch my plane, but I’ll see you at Christmas,” he said, and then, “And is there any chance you’ve reconsidered my advice?”

Alex laughed openly at that, and then lowered his voice a few pitches as he said, “Talk less, smile more,” in the most dramatic fashion he could manage. “Sure, Burr, whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is so much plot in this chapter i don't even know what to say
> 
> y'all should know that i'm lazy af and have made the executive decision to do absolutely no research on the american political process, so i'm going off of my limited knowledge of the jungle that is their elections (because seriously- do they ever end?? like?? i feel like the current one has been going on for a decade??) and i'm just making the rest up
> 
> of course i've taken a few too many poli sci classes to be completely ignorant of the process, but i'm still working with limited knowledge, which i'm okay with
> 
> and finally (as always) comments keep me going and y'all are wonderful and delightful <3


	14. take a break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john convinces alex to skip class

Alex lasted all of two hours at school on Monday before he landed himself another detention.

This time it was for mouthing off to Seabury, who’d taken over their Politics class as a last minute replacement for their real teacher, and Alex couldn’t find it in himself to regret any of it. He hadn’t punched anybody, and he considered that to be some sort of a personal victory, even if he had called the man’s views ‘archaic, and detrimental to the concept of freedom itself.’

However, by the time biology rolled around, the high he got from the debate had worn off and Alex was dreading the prospect of another hour sitting in an empty classroom, with nothing but a group of people he couldn’t talk to and his own thoughts to distract him.

He was lost in thought of that as he made his way through the hallway towards his final class of the day and, as a result, he didn’t notice John leaning against a locker, seemingly waiting for him, until the other boy had reached out and grabbed his arm as he passed.

“Jesus  _ fuck  _ Laurens,” Alex exclaimed, ignoring the ‘ _ language _ ,’ he got from a passing teacher, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Are you always this jumpy?” John countered, and then, “You really should cut back on the coffee, Ham. It’s going to stunt your growth.”

To accent his point, John stood up straight, which only highlighted the already noticeable height difference between him and Alex.

“You’re hilarious,” Alex deadpanned, before he made to head into the classroom, at which point John reached out to stop him once again.

“No way, Ham. We don’t have class today,” he said and, when Alex raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie, he sighed and continued. “It’s dissection day, and I like frogs too much to be down with that shit, so I’m vetoing the class and you should to.”

Alex considered it. “We’ll get in trouble,” he said, even as he realized that he didn’t actually care about that, and that he couldn’t think of any other good arguments.

John rolled his eyes. “You’ve already get detention, right?” Alex nodded. “So, this just means that I’ll be there to join you tomorrow- really, it’s a win-win situation here.”

Alex raised his eyebrows, because he was almost positive that John was teasing him, and two could play at that game. “You mean you’re willing to risk detention to spare the lives of frogs? How brave,” he said, barely holding back a grin, and not bothering to try when a huge, almost bashful smile broke out across John’s face.

“What can I say?” he asked with a shrug, “I like animals.”

_ And I like you _ , Alex thought to himself, but out loud all he said was, “Well, how can I argue with that?” and then, with one final look towards the classroom, he gestured for John to lead the way down the near empty hall, which he did, and Alex followed, and they weaved their way through the school and to the parking lot, where Alex realized all at once how cold it was, but then they were in John’s car and the heat was on, and Alex couldn’t complain.

They sat for a few seconds, before John turned to him. “So, where to, Ham?”

Alex racked his brain for ideas, but when all he could come up with was, “The library?” John let out a groan and threw his head back against his seat.

“Definitely not,” he declared, and then, “Jesus- you skip class, and you want to go to the library?”

Alex shrugged. “We could study? I’ve got a lot of stuff to work on.”

“I’m almost positive that it’s against the law to skip class to get more work done,” John said, and Alex shrugged again.

“It’s not in the constitution, or anything that I’ve read.”

John sent him an incredulous look. “You’ve read the constitution?” he asked, and then, “Wait no, you know what? Don’t answer that- you’re ridiculous, Ham,” he finished, and Alex felt his face turn red at the affection that he was sure he’d heard, so he turned away to hide his smile.

“So if the library’s out-”

“-It definitely is,” John cut in, and Alex rolled his eyes-

“So if the library’s out,” he tried again, “Then where should we go?”

At that, John studied him for several seconds, before he seemed to make a decision and, in doing so, pulled out of the parking spot and started to drive. “It’s a surprise,” was all he said and, while Alex protested it at first, after a few minutes he was content to sit back in his seat and listen to whatever music came on the radio and, more importantly, to John singing along to it under his breath and then, what felt like seconds later, he heard a loud cough and-

“I take you to my favourite place in the entire world, and you fall asleep?” John asked, and Alex blinked awake, momentarily forgetting where he was before-

“This is your favourite place in the entire world?” he asked, sitting up in his seat and looking out the car window to see that they’d come to a stop beside what was definitely a lake. Alex blinked, trying to figure out how they’d gotten there, and John’s fake glare wavered.

“No,” he admitted, “But it’s still a pretty damn good place- the Schuyler’s own it, so we don’t have to worry about trespassing, and if you come here in the summer the water’s clear enough to see the fish, and I swear to god some of them are bigger than a large toddler.”

Alex laughed. “Is that an official unit of measurement now?”

“It was patented while you were asleep,” John confirmed, and Alex couldn’t help but laugh at the joke but, when he calmed down, a question was itching in the back of his mind, so he asked it:

“Is there a reason you brought me here?”

Alex was almost positive that John was blushing, but then he shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on it when I decided to skip class, but you always seem a bit stressed out and you looked kind of tired at lunch and in the hall, so I figured you could use a break,” he explained, and Alex was a little bit surprised at how touched he was by the proclamation, so he smiled in response, but also reached for the car door.

“Can we go outside?”

“No, Ham,” John said, sarcastic, while Alex had already opened the door, “I brought you to a lake so you could sit here and stare at it from a safe distance.”

Something about the water put Alex at ease; he could tell that the lake wasn’t particularly large, and the air around it was fresh, and it was just about as far from the ocean he’d grown up around, but it felt like home and, in the almost childlike wonder that that feeling brought with it, Alex turned around and stuck his tongue out at John, before he continued his way down to the water.

And of course, it was almost December and ridiculously cold outside and he knew better than to actually get anywhere near the water, but that didn’t stop him from breaking out into a run, and only coming to an abrupt stop when he reached the shore line, and then promptly sitting down.

By the time John caught up to him, both boys had huge smiles on their faces, though Alex was also shivering and he was more than a little bit grateful when John held out a blanket.

“You’re going to have to get a real jacket soon, you know,” he pointed out while he sat down next to Alex, and Alex shrugged.

“This one’s lasted me the past few years- it’s fine.”

“It’s got at least three holes in it that I can see.”

“I haven’t frozen to death yet, so I think I’ll survive,” Alex shot back, but this time the words were more than playful teasing and he wanted to swallow back the anger the second it left his mouth, but then John shrugged and nudged him with his elbow, and it was all okay.

“Suit yourself, Ham,” he said, and when Alex spared him a glance he saw a half smile on the boy’s face, so he returned it and then John was standing up and- “Come on- I didn’t bring you here so you could fall asleep and then sit on your ass and stare at the water- we’ve got exploring to do.”

Alex couldn’t find it in him to protest that decision, so he let John grab his hand and pull him into a standing position and hold onto his hand for a bit longer than strictly necessary, and he let him drag him around the lake and then through the tiny forest beside it, and then to the park across the street, and then Alex saw the swingset and he was running again.

It was too cold for children to actually be out and playing, which suited him just fine. He was on the swing and pumping his legs into the air before he could stop himself, and then John had caught up and claimed his own swing, and raised an eyebrow at Alex’s enthusiasm.

“Having fun, Ham?” he asked, and Alex grinned against the wind in his face.

“What gave it away?” he yelled into the sky, before he dragged his feet across the ground to stop himself, and spun to face John. “This reminds me of a place my mom used to bring me,” he said simply, and John’s eyes only widened for a second.

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, and Alex only hesitated for half a second before he nodded, at which point relief washed over John. “My mom used to take me here when I was a kid- my brother and I.”

Something about the ‘used to’ and the glaze in his eyes and the wistful tone of his words told Alex that there was more to the story, but before he had a chance to ask about it, his phone started to ring in his pocket, and-

“Fuck- it’s Laf- I-” Alex panicked as he saw the picture flashing across the screen, before he dragged himself to a stop on the swing he’d been on, and answered the phone with an abrupt- “Hey, what’s up?” that missed casual by about a million miles.

He flinched when he heard a sigh of relief coming from the other end, and then Laf’s voice was back to normal, filling his ear with, “I believe you are the one who should be answering that question, mon ami, where are you? I have been waiting at the school for ages.”

Alex bit his lip and looked around and tried to think of what to say, before he shrugged. Of course, Laf couldn’t see that, so he tried, “With John?” and then-

“Excuse me?”

“We were dissecting frogs in biology and it’s super unethical and sad and gross, so we skipped?” he tried, which got him a thumbs up from John and silence from Laf.

After a few moments, Laf asked, “Would you please pass the phone to John, Alexander?” and something in his voice told Alex not to disagree.

John rolled his eyes when he realized what was happening, but within ten seconds of saying, “What do you want, Laf?” his expression had transformed into one that was distinctly sheepish, and then he was looking anywhere but at Alex’s curious face, and then he was biting his lip and hanging up the phone and Alex was transfixed by just how adorable the whole thing was, before John spoke and-

“We’re both expected at your place for dinner in half an hour,” he said, and Alex blinked, but John handed back the phone and was already heading back for the car, so Alex just followed behind. It was only when they got to the car and John explained, “They’re ordering dinner from my favourite Chinese place, so Martha told Laf to invite me,” that Alex grinned, and felt surprisingly relieved.

Still, he was curious as to what Laf had actually said that made John react the way he did, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get any information out of the boy, so he dropped it.

They got back to the Washington’s with ten minutes to spare and, after explaining why exactly they had no choice but to skip biology, Alex was surprised to find that George and Martha weren’t actually mad at him for skipping the class.

_ (“What?” _ George had asked,  _ “Just because I’m some stuffy old politician doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stick it to the man,” _ and Martha had groaned louder than all three kids combined, but had also agreed with the sentiment.)

It was nice, and Alex was surprised by how well John fit in with the family and how familiar he was with the Washington’s, though he didn’t ask about it until John had gone home and everybody else was getting ready to turn in for the night, and he found himself knocking on Lafayette’s door, looking for answers.

Of course, Lafayette didn’t give him any.

“John’s story is not mine to tell you, mon ami,” he said, gently but firmly, with a glint of mischief in his eye. “Of course, if you were to ask, I doubt there is much that he would refuse to tell you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Has he said anything about me?” he asked, trying not to sound like the nervous teenager that he was, and failing desperately, if Laf’s laugh was anything to go by.

“That is also not for me to tell you,” Laf chided, and added, “But Alexander, I must warn you, John Laurens is one of my best friends. If he were to be emotionally hurt in any way, you must know that I would be very upset with whoever did the hurting. Of course, he knows that I feel the same way about you being hurt, so I do not foresee any problems with this.”

Alex’s mind spun in circles around those words for a moment before he understood what they meant and even then, “Excuse me?” was all he could muster, before actual realization crashed over him and his eyes widened. “Wait, is that what you told John on the phone earlier?”

Laf’s giant, shit eating grin was all the answer Alex needed, but the boy spoke anyways: “Is there a problem with that, mon ami?” he asked, and the fake innocence would have worked if Alex hadn’t been completely mortified and oddly touched by the gesture.

“I’m going to bed,” he declared, entirely unsure of where the conversation could go from there, and definitely not wanting to find out. 

He was up and to the door before Laf could say anything, but when he did call out a, “ _ Sleep well, Alexander _ ,” to Alex’s back, Alex didn’t hesitate to flip him off.

  
Lafayette’s laughter followed Alex back to his own room and, when he got there, he crawled into bed and was surprised to find that sleep came easily that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this was the ultimate filler chapter because i didn't feel like writing any actual plot today, but i hope you enjoyed copious amounts of lams and slightly protective laf! :)


	15. what you really need to know about the washington's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charles lee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i can't believe this has 300 kudos wtf???)
> 
> (also about an hour after i posted the last chapter i went and added a bit more to the middle of it, so if you read it yesterday afternoon you might want to check that out?)

A day after George’s campaign was officially announced, a picture of the Washington’s appeared on the front page of the New York Times. Beside it was an old picture of Alex and a headline that read,  _ ‘What You Really Need to Know About the Washington’s. _ ’

A day after that, Charles Lee was fired from George’s campaign.

An hour after that, Charles Lee tweeted a series of angry messages directed towards George, ending in his endorsement of King. The fact that nothing Lee said could be backed by accountable sources, or that nobody had ever actually considered his opinion to be beneficial before also didn’t seem to matter, and the tweets went viral within the hour.

Truthfully, Alex didn’t know how he felt about the whole thing.

On one hand, his face was currently plastered all over the internet, the article had included more lies about his life than he could count, and his own twitter account was gaining more and more followers by the minute. More than a few vulgar, blatantly racist comments were directed his way, but he’d been told not to engage with those and, for the most part, he didn’t.

Of course, what he did anonymously in comment sections was his own business, he decided.

On the other hand, however, George had promised him that he’d stay out of the campaign unless it was his choice to do otherwise, and that hadn’t happened. Logically Alex knew that the events leading up to his face in the paper and the accompanying article had been out of the man’s control, but it still left him wary which, when he thought about it, really wasn’t anything new.

The fact that George had fired the person responsible for the leak helped a lot, but it didn’t do much to stop the stares he got at school, or the whispers that floated around behind his back, or the copies of the article that kept appearing on his locker.

As it turned out, being accused of being a presidential candidate's bastard son was enough to turn a few heads.

By the end of the week, Alex had had enough of it, and he was no longer confused about his feelings regarding the matter; he was angry, and he wanted to lash out.

But it wasn’t George or Martha’s fault, and they had apologized profusely, and he was pretty sure that they’d been even angrier about the article than he was. 

They’d defended him, and that wasn’t something he was used to.

And then there was the fact that every time Alex so much as thought about punching somebody at school, he remembered the discussion that he’d had with George the first time he’d done so, and he hesitated.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that the comments people made went unaccounted for; he debated people in class and on twitter like it was nobody’s business and, where he fell short, his friends picked up the slack. Angelica and Peggy were too quick witted for their own good, Eliza and Lafayette had a tendency to shut people down with a single look, Hercules and Maria somehow knew everything about everybody and nobody wanted to risk crossing them, and John always seemed ready for a fight.

Because of that, Alex wasn’t entirely surprised when John punched Thomas Jefferson.

Alex had been itching to do it all week, but he’d exercised more restraint than he’d known existed, and he’d held himself back. In class, when Thomas directed snide comments towards him, Angelica squeezed his hand and helped him tear the boy apart and, when his cronies whispered things in the halls, it was easy to bring them down with a quick comeback and, even though anger was bubbling up inside of him and leaving him helplessly on edge, Alex always managed to walk away, until he didn’t.

John had intersected him on the way to biology and they’d been walking towards the room, when Jefferson literally ran into them, making it seem like an accident the whole time. And then he’d taken a step back, all fake apologies and huge smiles, and had glanced to what was an admittedly tiny amount of space between where John and Alex were standing, and he’d winked. 

“That’s adorable,” he’d said, nodding towards them, at which point Alex had shuffled a step away self-consciously, John had looked hurt for half a second, and Jefferson’s smirk only grew as he zeroed in on Alex. “Let me guess,” he’d whispered conspiratorially, “Your father wouldn’t approve?”

Alex’s hands had curled into fists at his sides, and he’d bit his lip to keep from screaming and, when he spared a look to John, he almost regretted it immediately, because of what he saw there.

“He can’t just keep getting away with this shit,” the other boy had all but growled, apparently ignoring the fact that Jefferson was still standing in front of them expectantly, “Somebody’s gotta teach him a lesson.”

Everything in Alex’s body had been screaming at him to just do it, but he fought it all and held himself back. “George told me not to,” he hissed back, his voice soft despite the anger still rolling in it, and that at least got some sort of a reaction from John, who shrugged.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” he’d said and then, before Alex or Jefferson or anybody else could react, he’d spun on his heel and his fist was hitting Jefferson’s face, and then Jefferson was on the floor, and John was shaking out his hand, and Alex was smiling.

Of course, now they were outside the principal’s office, waiting for punishments to be doled out,  and Alex couldn’t help but think that maybe smiling hadn’t been the best reaction. Still, he kept to work studying John’s hand, poking and prodding it despite the other boy’s protests, trying to decide if it was hurt or not, because it kept him distracted and it gave him an excuse to hold John’s hand.

And then George stormed into the office, exactly like he had the last time, and Alex dropped the hand in a rush. The older man paid no attention to that, as he came to a stop in front of the boys and, at the stern look on George’s face, Alex sat up a bit straighter. Beside him, John only grinned.

“Hey Mr. W, congrats on the candidacy,” he said, ridiculously casual despite where they were and, somehow, managing to soften George’s expression in the process. “I gotta say, though, with you gone, my father’s going to sweep in on that senate seat- are you sure you want to release that on the world?”

For a moment, George’s face slipped into the diplomatic expression that he took on in front of crowds as he began to say, “Your father is-”

“A raging dick?” John interrupted, and Alex watched with curiosity as George sighed slightly, though Alex was pretty sure it was only to hide a chuckle.

“Well, those aren’t the exact words I would use,” he said, reasonable, and John let out a harsh laugh, “And there are more important things to discuss at the moment,” he continued, sharper, and turning to Alex in the process. “Such as what I’m doing here.”

Alex withered under his gaze, and shrunk back into his seat. “It’s a long story,” he muttered, but then John was the one sitting up straighter and speaking and-

“Jefferson’s been bullying Alex all week- posting that stupid fucking article on his locker, and verbally assaulting him constantly, and-”

“That’s quite the tale you’ve spun, Mr. Laurens,” Seabury’s voice cut across the office, and George, Alex, and John all turned to see him leaning against his doorframe with Jefferson hovering in the background, “After all, I’ve seen Alexander in his politics class, and if anybody is capable of defending themselves from a verbal assault, it’s him. As for your other allegations, I have seen no proof of any of it, so-”

“So my- So  _ Alexander _ has been bullied for a week, and you’re willing to discount it because you haven’t seen it take place?” George interrupted, disgust clear on his face and dripping in his voice as he rounded on Seabury. “If this is how your administration deals with complaints about bullies, then it’s no wonder that these boys felt the need to deal with it themselves.”

“Mr. Washington,” Seabury practically gasped, “I can assure you that-”

“That you take complaints about bullying seriously?”

“I- yes! Of course we do.”

“Then I’d like to speak to you alone, if you can spare the time,” George said and, despite the way the words were phrased, there was no mistaking it for anything but an order. Seabury simply nodded, backing into his office and George followed for a few steps before he seemed to realize that Jefferson was still there, and stopped. “I’d suggest getting that eye of yours checked out, son,” he said, and then, “Doesn’t look good.”

Alex held back a laugh and he could practically feel John smirking beside him, and the look stayed on his face as they watched Seabury dismiss Jefferson to the nurse’s office.

John and Alex were left sitting in silence for a few moments, before John nudged Alex with his elbow, and then spoke up.

“You know Ham, you’re kind of lucky,” John said, though when Alex balked at that he backtracked, “I mean obviously the circumstances that brought you to the Washington’s are super shitty and terrible and I wouldn’t wish them on anybody and all, but the Washington’s are great. I’d give just about anything to be their kid instead of- well.”

Alex didn’t know what to say about that, but there was something close to defeat on John’s face, and he really didn’t like it. “Your dad’s in politics too?” he asked quickly, remembering John and George’s original combination, and almost regretting it has a dark look passed over his friends face.

“Have you heard of Henry Laurens?”

“Yeah, he- oh,” Alex cut himself off when recognized the implication behind the words, and immediately tried to figure out how John Laurens, who was kind, and funny, and quickly becoming one of Alex’s best friends, could be the son of a Republican who preached nothing but hate, and backed King almost religiously. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

As Alex had a tendency to do in tense situations, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind which, in this case, was nothing short of mortifying: “Well, Laurens, I still like you a lot,” he said, and it got him a startled laugh from John a few seconds after the fact, which he figured was worth the embarrassment, if only for a moment.

“You’re not half bad yourself, Ham,” John said lightly, nudging him with his elbow again, the way he always did, before he nodded towards the office. “I would kill to know what GWash is saying in there.”

Alex hummed in agreement because, if it was anything like the last conversation George had had with Seabury, it would be hilarious. He relayed that story to John, and John laughed at all the right parts and Alex found that he absolutely adored the sound.

It was maybe ten minutes later, when George emerged from the office, cutting off their speculations, when he said, “Come on you two, your principal has kindly given you the rest of the day off.”

Alex blinked. “Wait, but we aren’t in trouble?” he asked, even as John was already moving to stand, apparently deciding to not question it.

George sighed. “You’ve got two more weeks of detention, but from what I understand that’s nothing new for either of you,” he said, and then, “Alex, you didn’t actually do anything wrong- in fact, it sounds like you did exactly what I told you to do, and I’m proud of you for that.” Alex couldn’t help the burst of pride that he felt, as George turned to John. “As for you, Mr. Laurens, I’m not your father or your guardian, so it’s not my place to punish you.” John grinned as well, bashful, and George continued. “That being said, I need both of you to understand that the longer this campaign lasts, the more people are going to talk. You can’t fight all of them, and I don’t want you to. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need you two running around defending me. Understood?”

John shrugged and Alex muttered something close to, “If you say so,” and George stared them down, only slightly exasperated, for a few more moments, before he sighed.

“Fine then, let’s go,” he said, before the secretary behind him cleared her throat and he turned to face her.

“Are you signing them both out, Mr. Washington?” she asked, sounding nothing but pleasant, despite the fact that she’d been glaring at John and Alex the entire time they’d been in her office.

“Yes, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman said kindly, and then, “But we’ve switched John’s permanent address back to his father’s place- should we put it as yours again?”

Alex felt his brow furrow at that, but when he turned to John for an explanation the boy was pointedly not looking at him, and George shook his head in response to the secretary’s question.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he said, and then added a quick thank you to the end of it, before he turned and headed for the hallway, with John on his heels and Alex a few steps behind, wondering exactly what the secretary had meant by ‘ _ again _ .’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not entirely thrilled with this chapter? the first half was really hard to write so i decided to finish it off with lams and some vague insight into john's life, and (as always) i'd love to hear what you think! :)
> 
> next chapter might be a part 2 of this one, or detention, or the start of christmas holidays- i really don't know yet, so we'll see!
> 
> and just as a warning, school's out for now and i've moved my work schedule around a bit and i (finally) get to go home and visit my family, so i'll be gone for a week and probably won't be posting very much for the next two weeks or so...
> 
> but then you can expect me back (hopefully) in full force, because i have got a lot of plans for this story before it's over! <3


	16. winter break plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang plans for winter break, alex and laf discuss christmas presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning- homophobic parents are vaguely mentioned, but it's not a huge huge thing i promise

Even with John sitting at the desk beside him, Alex found detention unbearable. Still, by the time the two weeks of punishment were up, the bruise on Jefferson’s face hadn’t quite faded, so Alex considered the whole thing to be worth while.

The fact that, on more than one occasion, John had offered to drive him home afterwards also didn’t hurt.

Despite that, though, Alex wasn’t entirely sure where they stood.

On one hand, Alex couldn’t help but feel close to John, and whenever John was around he felt special- he felt like the things he said made sense, and he felt like they were important. The fact that he definitely had a huge crush on the school’s quarterback also made him feel like a huge cliche, but that was beside the point.

On the other hand, Alex had no way of knowing if John felt the same way, and most of that was based in the fact that he seemed to be a genuinely good person, and treated everybody as such.

Because of that, Alex told himself that he didn’t care whether or not John liked him that way; if he did, it would be nice (okay, very, very nice), and if he didn’t, Alex would still have a fantastic friend, so really, he couldn’t lose.

Still, at lunch the day before Winter Break started, when John sat down beside him, before promptly turning to Maria and asking, “So, you ready to be my date to the Washington’s party?” Alex almost choked on his food. 

He knew about the Washington’s Christmas party, of course. It took place at Mount Vernon every year on Christmas Eve, according to Laf it was ‘the most glamorous night of the year’ and, according to Martha, it was ‘filled with more politicians than I ever wanted to know to begin with’. Alex was skeptical about the whole thing, and the price tag on the suit that George had bought him for the occasion didn’t help matters.

John’s apparent date didn’t either.

When Alex finished coughing on his food and shrugged Laf’s concerned hand off his back, he had the whole table’s attention, so he decided to use it. “I- uh- didn’t realize you two were- uh dating,” he stumbled, looking from Maria’s amused expression to John’s confused one, before the whole table burst out laughing.

It took longer than he would have liked for everybody to calm down, and by the time they did, Alex had come to the conclusion that he’d misunderstood something. When Maria reached around John and grabbed Alex’s hand, reassuring, that belief was solidified.

“Honey,” he started, a touch patronizing, “You’re sweet, but if you think for a second that I would date John Laurens, then you’re also very stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” Alex said quickly, at the same time John said, “ _ Hey now _ ,” and Maria only laughed, before squeezing his hand once more and leaning back into her seat, leaving Alex to turn on John. “You’re not dating her, then?”

Apparently recovered from Maria’s insult, John grinned. “Whatever gave you that idea, Ham?”

Alex tried not to let his furrowed brow turn into a glare, as he turned to the rest of the table and asked, “You all heard him, right?” and then, “He asked her out, right?”

He was met with smirks and, for a moment, he hated his friends, but then Laf spoke up and said,  _ “Mon ami, _ I believe John only asked Maria if she would accompany him to our party. I, for one, saw no implication of anything else.”

Alex blinked. “Was that supposed to explain anything?” he asked and then, a tiny bit frustrated, “Just forget I asked, okay?”

He tried to turn back to his food, but Peggy muttered something about them being “ _ a bunch of idiots, all of you, _ ” and when he looked up to glare at her, he caught John’s eye. He looked away, but John nudged him.

“What, are you jealous, Ham?” he asked, and Alex knew he was teasing but his face turned bright red anyways, and John continued before Alex could tell him to fuck off. “Don’t be,” he said, “Maria’s just doing me a favor. I pretend to be straight one night a year, and my dad pretends to tolerate me the rest of the time.”

“But that’s-” Alex started, disgust boiling up in him, but then-

“It is what it is, Ham,” John interrupted him with a shrug, clearly wanting the conversation to end, and changing the topic a moment later.

It left Alex reeling, and the fact that nobody else seemed surprised by the revelation also left him feeling like an outsider. It was a reminder of the fact that, even though he was friends with everybody in the group, they all knew each other better than he did, and they’d known each other for longer than he’d known them, and Alex felt left out, just thinking about it.

But it wasn’t about him, so he let it go and let John change the subject, and listened to everybody else plan out their dates for the party.

In the end, Peggy declared Laf and Hercules both as her dates in a way that only she could manage, Alex noted the sidelong glances that Eliza and been sending Maria so, when Maria finally greed to be John’s date, Alex asked the other girl, and Angelica was more than excited to be going solo. She was preparing to ‘ _ network like it’s going out of style, _ ’ and Alex decided not to question her on it.

With all of that planned, Alex only really had two things left on his mind, and he tackled one of them during biology.

Their teacher was, apparently, as excited about the upcoming break as the students were, so he’d put Bill Nye on the small TV at the front of the room, and then left the room. As a result, the class pretty much went wild.

While that was happening, John turned to Alex. “So Ham, you excited for Christmas with the Washington’s?” he asked and Alex, being himself, ignored it entirely, in favor of the questions that had been on his mind since their conversation at lunch.

“Your father-”

“Has nothing to do with your holiday, I’d assume,” John cut him off, suddenly flat, but Alex pushed on.

“Well no, but you used to live with the Washington’s, and you spent Thanksgiving with them last year so you’ve probably spent other holidays there as well, and I’m spending Christmas with them this year, so it’s kind of related?” he tried to press, knowing that he was reaching, but too curious to stop. “Was that because of your father?”

John’s posture was tense and he swallowed before he spoke. “Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking,” he said, painfully cold and steady, and then, “And before you ask anything else, we’re not talking about this.”

“But-”

“Alex,” John cut him off again, but this time the use of his actual name stopped Alex for half a second. “I don’t ask you about your family, do I?”

“You could.”

“Could I?” 

Alex faltered, and apparently it was the only answer John needed.

“Exactly,” he said, still stone cold, and then a silence fell between them that was mostly filled with Alex’s guilt for having pushed his friend too far.

“I’m sorry,” Alex finally muttered, probably a bit too late, but he did mean it. He hated seeing John upset, so he continued. “It’s none of my business, and I know I talk too much sometimes but I should have known better than to push it. I just-” he cut himself off with a shrug, half a second away from saying  _ ‘I care about you.’ _

It took a few more moments, but eventually John nudged Alex with his elbow, a bit harder than usual, but it was enough to prompt Alex to look up, a tiny bit sheepish, and to catch the smile on John’s face. It was a bit duller than usual, but it was real and it was growing brighter by the second.

“Nah, we’re cool Ham,” he said, and then, “I love your rambling- it’s cute. It’s just family stuff, you know?” and Alex decided to not and pretend that he did, rather than focusing on the fact that John had definitely just called him cute.

He was still grappling with a response to that when he was saved from it, by the teacher coming back into the room, with a cupcake and a coffee for himself, and began to halfheartedly scold the class for not watching the show.

After school, in the car on the way home, Alex decided to tackle the second thing on his mind, this time with the help of Laf.

The other boy was singing along to something on the radio that Alex had never heard before, and when he reached over to turn it down so he could speak, it got him a glare.

“That’s my jam, Alexander,” he whined, and Alex couldn’t help but grin.

“You say that about every song,” he pointed out, and Laf rolled his eyes dramatically.

“That is because when you are as good of a singer and dancer as I am, every song is your jam,” he explained, as if it made perfect sense, and Alex snorted. “It is not my fault that I am brilliantly talented, _mon ami._ ”

“Right,” Alex said, drawing out the word and gaining a glare from Laf, before he continued, “Is there any chance that you could spare some of your talent on me?” 

“There is more than enough to go around,” Laf huffed, and then, “What is it you need?”

Alex bit his lip and readjusted himself in his seat and by the time Laf was looking over at him, curious, he’d decided to just blurt it out: “I don’t know what to get anybody for Christmas.”

When he looked over at Laf again, he was grinning like a cheshire cat. “Are you asking me to take you shopping?” he asked, and his excitement only made Alex more nervous.

“I-” he started, and then sighed, “I don’t know? I mean, I don’t have any money, so I-”

“What about your allowance?” Laf cut him off. “Martha and George have been giving you one, yes?” Alex nodded, but still felt uneasy. “You can use that,” Laf said, determined, and then, before Alex knew what was happening, their car stopped in the middle of the street, cars around them started honking, and then they were turning around, faster than they had any right or reason too.

Half way through the definitely illegal turn Alex yelled, “ _ What the fuck, Laf? _ ” and he repeated the sentiment once they were driving normally again.

Laf, being himself, only shrugged. “We are going to the mall,” he said, like it made all of the sense in the world, and Alex leaned his head against his seat rest for a moment.

Once he caught his bearings again, he sighed. “It seems weird to use the money they gave me to buy them presents,” he said, unsure of how the whole process worked, even as Laf waved him off.

“Nonsense,  _ mon ami _ , that is what everybody does for their parents,” he said, and then, “Did you never do this with yours?”

Alex thought back to his childhood for a moment, and all he came up with were handmade crafts from school that his mom had fawned over, as if they weren’t just poorly cut paper trees and popsicle sticks glued together. He couldn’t imagine giving anything like that to the Washington’s, but he also couldn’t imagine spending the money they’d given him.

When he relayed that information to Laf, there was a moment where the other boy looked confused, but then he shrugged.

“I doubt George and Martha are expecting anything from you at all, Alexander, you do not have to get them presents if you do not want to,” he said, and Alex jumped in because-

“I want to,” he said, insistent, “For you and Aaron too- I just don’t know what to get anybody? Or really, how any of this works? 

Laf narrowed his eyes. “Did you celebrate last year?” he asked, and Alex shrugged.

“Not really? I mean, like, the family I was staying with had a huge extended family so we went to their aunt’s house, and I spent most of my time reading in the basement? It was pretty clear that they didn’t want me there, and I didn’t have money or anything for presents, and they bought me some socks but I’d only been staying with them for a week beforehand anyways so it was all pretty last minute and I ended up leaving there before the break was even over so-” 

Alex cut himself off, because the look on Laf’s face was nothing short of pity, and he didn’t want that. Laf, apparently, took his silence as a place to talk.

“Well, there is no question that everybody wants you here now,” he said, and there was something fierce in his tone that Alex didn’t entirely understand, “So we will buy presents, yes?”

Alex couldn’t help but grin and nod along, and shortly after that they were at the mall, in all of it’s crowded, Christmas-y glory and, with Laf dragging him from store to store, and both of them picking out presents, he let himself relax enough to feel at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay next chapter is called A Winter's Ball and you Do. Not. understand how excited i am for it- i'm going to try my best to get it written and posted for tomorrow, and i really want to get the chapter after that up two because that way i'll be leaving y'all with a cliff hanger before i (most likely) take a week and a half off from this!
> 
> also the past few chapters have been like 99% lams but we're gonna move away from that soon i promise 
> 
> and as always, your comments mean the world to me, and if you like this let me know?!?!?! <3 <3 <3


	17. a winter's ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fancy party time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is my super early christmas present to all of y'all so enjoy!

The last time Alex wore a suit, it had been for his cousin’s funeral. It was the same suit he’d worn to his mother’s funeral, only months earlier, and he’d grown out of it ages ago. All things considered, he was relieved that George had bought him a new one, even if it was a ridiculous amount of money to spend on an outfit for a single night.

Standing in front of the mirror in his room with the suit on, unsure of how to tie a tie or what, exactly, to do with his hair, he felt even more ridiculous.

Downstairs, the house was buzzing with activity; hired servers and assistants were making last minute adjustments, Martha and George were supervising the whole thing, and it was quickly turning into the most elegant, extravagant thing Alex had ever seen. He’d long since stopped trying to offer his assistance and, at Laf’s prompting, had gone to get changed.

Now, not knowing what else to do about his appearance, he decided to find the other boy and, hopefully, find help in the process, so he left his room and crossed the hallway, knocking on Laf’s door and hearing a,  _ ‘Come in, _ ’ called out barely a second later. He entered to find Laf standing in front of a mirror, much like Alex had just been. The only difference between the two of them was that, while Alex looked like an overgrown kid playing dress up, Laf looked like a model.

At that, Alex let out a tiny huff of annoyance, which at least caught Laf’s attention. The other boy’s eyes promptly widened, while Alex rolled his.

“ _ Mon ami, _ you look wonderful- our dear Laurens will-  _ how you say _ \- eat your heart out,” Laf exclaimed, with a wink that only made Alex groan as he flopped onto Laf’s bed.

“Shouldn’t my goal be to impress Eliza?” he asked, and Laf’s smile only grew.

“No matter who her date is, I can guarantee you that Eliza will only have eyes for Maria,” Laf said, and that at least confirmed some of Alex’s suspicions in regards to the two of them. He opened his eyes moments later, when he heard Laf move towards him and tut. When he did, he saw Laf holding out a hand. “Your tie, Alexander,” he said, and Alex handed it over, at which point Laf got to work and, moments later, it was in place and secure around his neck.

He muttered out a thanks, and Laf’s grin only widened.

“It is not a problem,” he said, and then, “Leave your hair down. It looks good like this.”

Alex didn’t know about that, but he decided to take Laf’s advice because, really, if anybody was an expert on the topic, it was him. While he normally wore his hair pulled back in a ponytail, Laf had also opted to wear his lose for the occasion and, while it looked good, it also made him look familiar, in a way that felt strange but that Alex couldn’t quite place.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that, before another knock sounded on Laf’s door and, before either of them could acknowledge it, the door opened and the three Schuyler sisters walked in, in floor length gowns, looking like they owned the place. Alex couldn’t help but gawk, and they definitely noticed.

“See something you like, Hamilton?” Angelica asked with a smirk, and Alex blushed and didn’t bother to hide it.

“You all look beautiful,” he said earnestly, and it got him a snort from Angelica, a sharp laugh from Peggy, and a smile from Eliza.

“You’re sweet,” Eliza said, as she took a seat beside him on the bed, and Alex smiled back at her.

Angelica took a seat at Laf’s desk, Peggy seemed to be sizing Laf up with a look on her face that Alex couldn’t read at all, and they all fell into comfortable conversation after that. Hercules joined them shortly after, looking absolutely fantastic and casting mutually appreciative gazes towards both of his dates, and when Maria walked in, Eliza immediately made room for her on the bed. John was the last to arrive and, when he did, Alex did a double take.

He was breathtaking, with his hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, his usual smirk on his face, and dressed in a dark blue suit that fit him perfectly and made his eyes shine. If seeing him made Alex do a double take, then the wink that he sent Alex, made him melt.

And then he was talking to the room, saying, “Martha sent me to collect you, you sorry looking group,” and there were groans and complaints as everybody moved to stand and make their way downstairs, when John held up his hand and, in it, a flask. “But first,” he said, “Shots?”

Angelica was the first to respond, with a frown. “Do you know how many politicians will be here?” she asked, and then, “Those are possible future employers. I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of them.”

Before anybody else could add to that, Peggy shrugged and took a step forward. “I will,” she said, and then grabbed the flask from the now-smiling John, unscrewed the lid, and threw back a shot. She winced, and Alex did too.

John’s grin only widened. “See, this is why you’re my favourite Schuyler, Pegs,” he said, at which point Eliza let out a huff that sounded more amused than irritated, and grabbed the flask from her sister.

She took a shot and then, also wincing, looked to John. “What were you saying, Laurens?” she asked, and John laughed, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder in a half hug that Alex had grown used to being on the receiving end of.

“That I love you and Peggy equally,” he said solemnly, before swiping the flask out of her hand, and taking a drink for himself. “Anybody else?” he asked, and then his gaze fell on Alex and he raised an eyebrow, and Alex was helpless to do anything but accept the offered drink.

He was halfway through swallowing, when the door opened and Aaron Burr walked in.

His presence in the house wasn’t a surprise; Aaron had gotten home from college a week earlier, looking more haggard than the last time Alex had seen him but no worse for the wear, and had spent plenty of time with Laf and Alex since then. It was the fact that he was in the room now, while Alex was mid shot, definitely thinking the worst of him, that instantly put Alex on edge.

He sputtered on the drink and made to hide the flask and ended up choking for several, awkward moments, before he came to and realized that, with a hand holding the flask behind his back and his face bright red from the effort he’d put in, he only looked more suspicious.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “I see you’re all having fun,” he said, placing a strange sort of emphasis on the last word, as his expression remained impartially curious and his gaze lingered on Alex.

“Are you kidding, Burr?” John jumped in, “The party doesn’t start until you arrive. We were just waiting for you to make an appearance so that the fun could really start.”

Aaron’s gaze turned to John, and he pursed his lips together for a moment, feigning irritation “As always,” he said, “It’s good to see you, John,” and then he seemed to take in the rest of the room, before he sighed. “Martha sent me to check on you, and apparently it’s a good thing that I did. Do you really want to spend Christmas Eve drunk?” he asked, and the group exchanged glances, before most of them shrugged.

Surprisingly, it was Angelica who actually came to their defence. “Do you really think one shot is enough to get any of us drunk, Burr?” she asked, despite having not drank at all, and Aaron actually grinned slightly.

“If last year is any indication of your tolerance levels, then definitely,” he said, and Angelica rolled her eyes but Alex was pretty sure she was blushing, and he made a note to ask for that story some other time while, meanwhile, Laf jumped in.

“You are the worst, Burr,” he said, with a determined sigh and a hint of affection that always seemed to be there when talking to Aaron, and this time Aaron rolled his eyes.

“I’m going,” he said, turning to leave the room and, still hoping to make up for being caught with the flask, Alex fumbled to follow him.

“We’re coming too,” he said quickly, and Aaron threw an unreadable look over his shoulder before he was gone, and Alex was left sighing, with the flask still in hand and completely unsure of what to do.

Luckily, Maria reached behind him, grabbed the flask, and took her shot, distracting him in the process. “Jesus Christ Laurens, what is this? Motor oil?” she asked, and the mood in the room lightened in an instance.

Laf and Hercules took their shots as well, and John finished off the little bit of alcohol that was left, and then they really were heading downstairs, before Martha could come find them herself.

Just leaving Laf’s room felt like entering a different world altogether and by the time they’d actually entered the party, Alex knew that he’d never felt more out of place.

They were surrounded by people wearing clothing worth more than his entire life was, eating and drinking and, in the middle of it all, dancing, and carrying themselves with an air of importance that was nothing short of intimidating. The room house itself also looked nothing like Alex had grown used to, with intricate and expensive looking decorations everywhere, and almost every surface covered.

He felt like he could get lost in it all and never find his way out and, just as the panic behind those thoughts settled in, Eliza loped her arm with his and said, “You’ll be fine, trust me,” and, maybe because of how calm and collected she always seemed, Alex believed her.

Their friends had separated from them in the crowd, with Peggy wandering towards food with Laf on one arm and Hercules on the other, and Maria and John conspiring a plan that almost certainly involved finding more drinks, and Angelica breaking off to talk to somebody who looked close to their age and had introduced himself as John Church, and after a moment, Alex let himself stop caring about where they’d all gone, and he focused on where he was.

And, as it turned out, doing that was one of the best decisions he’d made all night.

Being Eliza’s date ended up being a lot of fun, if only because she was great company and definitely a lot more experienced in parties that were practically balls than Alex was.

It was also because of that, that Alex didn’t mind following her lead for most of the night. He followed her around as she said hello’s to who she thought necessary, and then he followed her straight onto the dancefloor, and didn’t bother to protest when she took the lead there as well.

It was nice, and easy, and Alex still didn’t feel like he belonged at all, but Eliza didn’t seem to care, so he couldn’t bring himself to care either.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw John twirling around the dancefloor with Maria in his arms, and a pang of jealousy hit him harder than he’d expected. Before he got a chance to feel guilty for thinking about somebody else while dancing with Eliza, she followed his gaze and for half a second, the look on her face almost mirrored his.

And then, before Alex knew what was happening, Eliza took a step closer to him, and moved her arm a bit further around his shoulder, and leaned up into his neck to whisper, “They’ll notice,” and then all Alex could do was smirk and go along with her plan.

It was less than five minutes later, that he felt somebody tap on his shoulder, and he pulled back from Eliza slightly to see John standing in front of him, a smile on his face despite the fact that it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m grabbing a drink- did you want to come with me?” he asked, and Alex smiled despite himself.

When he turned to Eliza, eyebrows raised in a question of permission, she only nodded her head towards him and smirked. “Go on, and bring me some punch whenever you feel like it,” she said, something teasing in her tone before she extracted herself from his embrace altogether, and took a step closer to Maria, who threw an arm around her waist with absolutely no subtlety.

There was no way that Alex could say no to that and he definitely didn’t want to, so he followed John away from the dancefloor, and kept following him, until he came to a stop in front of one of the towers of glasses that were precariously balancing around the whole room.

“So,” John started, turning to Alex, leaning against a table, but ignoring the drinks altogether, “You enjoying the party, Ham?”

Alex cleared his throat and tried not to think of how close they were standing, or how good John looked. “It’s a lot of fun,” he said quickly, and then, “Eliza’s great,” and then, “But you know that,” and then added, “It’s a bit crowded, though,” just for good measure.

John took it all in stride, as he always did, and then smiled in a way that Alex really couldn’t think too hard about. “Well, if you need a break, I know a place,” he said, and Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” John nodded, and then, “I mean, it’s a bit cold outside, but the lights are beautiful. Meet me behind the shed in ten minutes?”

Alex blinked. “Why ten minutes?” he asked, and John’s smiled wavered a tiny bit, as his gaze flickered to somebody off to the side.

“My dear father,” he explained, “Would not be happy to find me sneaking off with you.”

Alex nodded, at least understanding that. “Ten minutes, then,” he said, knowing better than to press it, and John nodded before he really did turn to the drinks, grabbed two, and then he walked back towards Maria, with one last smile for Alex.

For his part, Alex was about to do the same and head for Eliza, and a hand clapped his shoulder and he shrunk a tiny bit, before he realized that it was only George.

“You’re having a good time, I take it?” he asked, smiling wryly, and Alex nodded.

“And you?”

At that, George lowered his voice. “If you see me get cornered by one more person, you have my full permission to set this entire place on fire to get me out of the conversation,” he said, and Alex couldn’t help but laugh. It got a brief smile from George as well, before somebody caught his eye, and his smile widened. “Ah, Alex, while we’re talking though, there is somebody I’d like you to meet- just for a moment, alright?”

Alex had barely nodded his consent, when George was sweeping him across the room and placing him in front of a man, likely in his early 50’s, who carried the years in the same distinguished way that George managed to. He smiled at Alex, as George started his introductions.

“Alexander, this is my old friend and current campaign manager, Friedrich von Steuben,” he said, and Alex had the good conscious to stand up a bit straighter as George continued with, “And Friedrich, this is Alexander Hamilton- he’s been staying here for the past few months, and Martha and I are very taken by him.”

Von Steuben held out a hand for Alex to shake so that’s what he did, and they exchanged the typical  _ ‘it’s nice to meet you, _ ’ pleasantries, but it was what the man said after that that practically made Alex stop in his tracks:

“George speaks very highly of you, you know- and he says you’re interested in joining the military?”

Alex nodded his agreement and got out a ‘ _ Yes sir _ ,’ before George jumped in.

“Friedrich and I served together a million years ago,” he explained, and Alex was quickly gaining an understanding of what was going on, but he had no idea how to make it stop. “He’s stuck with it over the years. If you have any questions about that sort of life, I’m sure he’d be happy to answer them for you.”

Alex swallowed, while von Steuben nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, indeed,” he said, and then, “Tell me, what is it that draws you to the military?”

“I- um- want to fight for my country?” Alex tried, saying the first time that came to mind because, really, at least it sounded a little bit better than ‘ _ I’m too poor to do anything else.’ _

Still, von Steuben was nodding along, though something else had passed over his face. “That’s very noble,” he said, and Alex was content it leave it there, even when the man continued with, “And I’d be the last person to dissuade somebody from joining, but are you sure there aren’t any other areas you’d like to pursue?”

Alex blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” the man started, like it was the most normal thing to do, “There is something to be said for martyrdom, but I’ve seen too many young people die to let somebody choose this life without being fully committed to it. I can tell you for fact, that dying before you get the chance to live your life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. George tells me that you’re quite brilliant- you’re sure this is what you want?”

At that, all Alex wanted to do was run away screaming, but George and von Steuben were looking at him expectantly, and he knew that wasn’t an option, so he only shrugged. “Of course I am,” he said, and then, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

The man’s lips pursed, he raised an eyebrow, and Alex got the sick feeling that him and George had talked about this beforehand. He felt like he was being cornered, and he hated everything about it, but he bit his lip and listened as the man asked, “Surely there are other options you would like to pursue?”

Of course, the second the word ‘options’ left the man’s mouth, Alex felt his blood run cold.

“I can assure you, there aren’t,” he snapped, losing his cool entirely and backing away from the men before he knew what he was doing, and then he was turning on his heel and all but running away.

He was dodging people and making his way through the crowd, and the word ‘options,’ was running through his mind a million times a second, and it wouldn’t do away because nobody seemed to understand- he never had options, and he never had choices.

He survived, and that’s what counted.

He didn’t host fancy parties on Christmas Eve, he didn’t live in mansions, he didn’t wear suits that were nicer than most of the houses he’d lived in, and he didn’t have options.

No matter what George and his military friends said, and no matter how reluctant he felt towards the idea, the military was his future. All he needed was a high school education and they’d let him in, and they’d let him work, and through that, he’d work his way up.

He’d fight, and he’d hopefully do some good in the world, and he would make his own way.

He didn’t have a choice, and he never really had, and he was fine with that, as long as people didn’t try to convince him otherwise.

Because of that, he told himself to calm down and, once he pushed through the last of the crowd and onto the patio outside, he took a deep breath of the cold air, and let it all wash over him.

He was fine.

Of course, John had been right about it being cold outside, but John seemed to be right about most things so that wasn’t surprising, and it was that thought that reminded Alex that somebody was waiting for him

That John was waiting for him.

With that in mind, and a slight smile growing on his face despite everything that had just happened, Alex walked further from the house and towards the shed, Christmas lights on trees leading the way.

He got there to find John leaning against the back of the shed, like he promised he would be, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a smile dancing on his lips as well.

“And here I thought you were standing me up, Ham,” he said, and then, when Alex got close enough for John to actually see his face, he narrowed his eyes slightly. “You alright?” he asked, and Alex nodded.

“I’m fine,” he said, and then, “Or- well- I will be,” and then, before John could ask, “I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

John nodded at that, but his eyes were still narrowed and he looked into Alex’s for a moment before- “Are you drunk? Was Burr right? Was one shot really enough? I mean, we all know you’re a lightweight, but-”

Alex cut him off with a light shove, and John chuckled but stopped. “I’m not drunk,” he muttered, and then, with a raised eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Nah,” John said, “Though not for lack of trying, but I swear to god, GWash has got some sort of super power- every time Maria or I got near a drink, he was on us like a non-alcoholic hawk.”

Alex had to laugh at that, because it did sound accurate, and the idea of George constantly foiling John’s plans was a tiny bit amusing. John caught on to that and nudged Alex with his elbow, but this time it made him feel warmer than it normally did.

“Are you laughing at my pain?” he asked, mock offended, and Alex smiled.

“I would never,” he said, missing solemn by a heartbeat, and coming off more flirtatious than he’d intended, though if the way John turned towards him and leaned one shoulder against the wall behind them was any indication, he really didn’t mind.

“Somehow I don’t buy that,” John said, his face moving half an inch closer to Alex in the process and, for a moment, Alex was rendered speechless by the way the Christmas lights lit up his face and danced in his eyes.

But Alex was Alex, and so his speechlessness didn’t last for long, before he bit his lip and looked up at John through his lashes and asked, “And how should I prove it to you, Laurens?” and John’s smile only grew more brilliant, and Alex was mesmerized.

Because of that, when all John did was shrug and say, “Surprise me, Ham,” his voice definitely a tiny bit lower than usual, Alex did the only thing he could think of, and leaned forward and up, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to John’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got bored at work today and this happened, and if everything goes according to plan i'll definitely post one more chapter before i go to bed and probably another, because i want to leave you guys on a happier note and the next chapter won't really do that but the one after it will , and then after that you probably won't hear from me for a week
> 
> so YEAHHHH comments mean the world to me and keep me writing, and thank you to everybody who has read this far, and i hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as i did writing it! <3


	18. christmas presents and christmas cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conversations and then presents

Alex woke up to the sound of knocking on his bedroom door, and all it made him do was bury his head further into his pillows.

It was early, and he was tired, and he wanted to sleep, but the knocking continued and it was accompanied by a voice saying, “Alex, it’s Christmas,” and he cursed under his breath, because that meant that he definitely wasn’t getting any more sleep.

And then the door opened and he lifted his head to see George peeking into the room, and the weight of their last conversation crashed over him, and it was definitely too early to deal with it, but he really doubted he had a choice in the matter.

That assumption was confirmed, when George said, “Gilbert and Aaron are already downstairs, but before we start with presents, I wanted to talk to you.” Alex continued to stare, and George sighed. “Can I come in?” he asked, and Alex nodded after a moment.

He also rolled onto his back and sat up, mourning the loss of the blanket's warmth, but hugging a pillow and burrowing deeper into his sweater for warmth. George stopped at the edge of the bed, and Alex rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, only having to squint slightly to be able to see him.

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” he said finally, and Alex swallowed but was otherwise content to listen, for the moment. “I should have talked to you myself before introducing you to Friedrich, and it wasn’t fair of me to corner you like I did. I really am sorry and, if it helps at all, you should know that Martha is extremely unimpressed with me over the whole thing.”

That, at least, got a small smile out of Alex, but there was still a weight on his chest that he wanted lifted before anything else happened, so he did what he always did when that was the case, and spoke until it made sense.

“It’s fine- I mean like, definitely don’t do it again and maybe don’t try to tell me what to do or, you know, shape my future or whatever because honestly it’s none of your business-” George winced at that “-but it’s all in the past so whatever, I guess. I mean, I have a plan and I’m going to join the military because it’s not like I really have any other choices and this just makes the most sense no matter what you and your rich friends thing- no offense just- maybe don’t try to understand that? I mean like, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but that doesn’t mean you’re always going to be around and that doesn’t mean I want to lean off of you for everything and I thought you knew that but it’s fine- and I just- I’ve still got another year and a half before I graduate, so there’s really no point in having this discussion right now anyways?”

This time George blinked, and Alex didn’t blame him because that was definitely a lot to take in first thing in the morning.

“I don’t know how I feel about most of that,” he admitted a moment later, “But as long as you know that I am sorry for last night, we can agree to have this discussion another, mutually agreed upon time?”

Alex bit his lip because, if he had it his way, this was a discussion that they would never have, but he also knew a compromise when he saw one, and he figured that this one was the best he’d be getting.

He nodded, and George did as well.

“I appreciate that, son,” he said and Alex told himself that it was just in the spirit of Christmas that he let the name slide, and then George smiled and headed for the door. “I’ll try to distract Gilbert for as long as I can, but he loves presents more than anybody I know, so if he’s knocking down your door in the next five minutes, don’t blame me.”

Alex smiled at that, and George closed the door behind him, so Alex rolled back into the bed for half a second, now wide awake.

A lot was on his mind and he didn’t particularly appreciate any of it, so he grabbed his phone, hoping to find a distraction, and that’s exactly what he did.

There was a message on his lock screen from John reading, ‘ _ Merry Christmas, Ham _ ’ with a Santa emoji, followed by a Christmas tree, followed by the double pink hearts, and just reading it made Alex blush.

He thought back to the night before, and Alex marvelled at the fact that his first kiss had been with John Laurens, of all people. The perfection of that alone was enough to send him reeling, and then he thought about the way that John had pulled him closer, and messed up his hair, and had kissed back like he never wanted to stop, and Alex practically died of happiness on the spot.

He’d stayed up that night with a smile on his face and slightly bruised lips, writing an embarrassingly cheesy love letter that would likely never see the light of day, and he’d fallen asleep just as happy.

Of course, he’d also been nervous that John would change his mind overnight, but the text he was currently re-reading put an end to those fears.

He was trying to think of an adequate reply, when his door burst open and Lafayette threw himself into the bed, in a flurry of red and green pajamas, and big hair.

“Alexander, it is Christmas day. There are more important things to do then-” Laf cut himself off, and Alex tried to hide his phone, but he was too late because Laf had definitely already seen it and- “What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing?” Alex tried, but he was smaller than Laf and his reflexes were slower, and Laf grabbed the phone before Alex could stop him.

Laf studied the screen for several seconds, before he grinned wider than Alex had ever seen. “Mr. Laurens would be very upset to know that you think of him as nothing,  _ mon ami, _ ” he said, patronizing, and then, “He has sent you hearts, Alex. John has never sent me a heart as long as I have known him- what are you not telling me?”

Alex’s blush gave him away and, truthfully, he’d been dying to tell somebody about what happened, so the words, “I kissed him last night,” were out of Alex’s mouth before he could stop them, and then, “Whatever, okay?” to make it seem casual.

Laf didn’t buy it. He looked like he was ready to throw a parade at the news and, knowing him, Alex wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

However, before Laf could buy streamers or start singing or even begin to form a reply, another head poked into the room, and Aaron was standing there, looking tired and fake-annoyed as always, but also a tiny bit excited. He looked younger than Alex had ever seen him, and it was a nice change.

“Christmas, remember?” he asked, while Laf only threw himself back onto Alex’s bed and sighed dramatically.

“Some things are more important than Christmas, my dear Burr,” he sang, and Alex was still grinning like an idiot so he barely even objected when Laf continued with, “Alex has a  _ special  _ friend now- let us celebrate.”

Aaron’s smile turned into a wry smirk, but it didn’t look unkind. “John Laurens is special in many ways,” he agreed, and Alex balked but he continued with, “But I hardly think he warrants holding up Christmas.”

Laf was busy rolling his eyes, so Alex demanded, “How do you know it’s John?” and Burr shrugged.

“He isn’t exactly subtle,” he said, and Alex panicked for a moment before- “I won’t tell anybody though; you don’t have to worry about that.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “How do I know?” he asked, and Aaron actually looked offended, before he covered it with his usual passiveness.

“Maybe because I’m not a complete asshole?” he said, and Alex felt a bit bad about that, and then, “George and Martha don’t know?” Alex shook his head, and Aaron shrugged. “I don’t see why you’re keeping it from them, but it’s none of my business.”

Alex nodded and he knew his relief was unreasonable, but something about coming out to adults always seemed a lot bigger and scarier than coming out to people his own age, and he was relieved to know that he still didn’t have to worry about the Washington’s knowing.

Apparently catching onto that, Laf took over for him. “Aaron, you have a heart after all!” he exclaimed, and Aaron rolled his eyes but his cheeks were definitely tinged with a tiny bit of pink, and then Laf moved on to, “And anyways, you were right- it is Christmas, and we have presents to open!”

And with that they were off, down the stairs and travelling through the remnants of the party. The house looked like some sort of Christmas ghost town with all of the people gone, but Alex didn’t dwell on it because soon they were in the main room, where the tree was set up and the fireplace was on, and George and Martha were sharing a chair and smiling at each other and then at the three of them.

They exchanged their ‘ _ Merry Christmas’s’ _ and ‘ _ Good morning’s’ _ , and Laf was inching towards the presents so, after several moments of watching him squirm, Martha smiled and said, “Why don’t you hand them out, honey?”

Alex wasn’t expecting much, so he didn’t focus on the pile that Laf placed in front of him. Instead, he noted when George and Martha and Aaron and Laf picked up the gifts that he’d wrapped for them, and watched their faces as they opened them.

He’d gotten George and Martha books and, on instruction from Laf, had written personalized notes on the inside of the covers.

George’s book was a self-help manual teaching the reader how to get a promotion and, on the inside, Alex had written,  _ ‘George, President would be one hell of a promotion, and you deserve it. No matter what happens, you’ve got my vote (metaphorically of course, with me being 16 and all, but still…). Merry Christmas and thank you for everything, A.Ham.’ _

George laughed at the book and at the message, and Alex looked away when he saw the man getting a little bit teary-eyed.

Martha’s book, on the other hand, was about what the author claimed were the ’50 most influential women in history,’ and on the inside Alex had written,  _ ‘Martha, I think you’re cooler than all of them combined, and if I’d written this book you’d be number 1. Still, you’ll definitely make the list one day, so a bit of research can’t hurt, right? Merry Christmas and thank you for everything, A.Ham.’ _

When Martha read it she beamed, and Alex couldn’t help but smile as well.

For Aaron, he’d gotten a poster that, after listening to the other boy’s philosophies, he’d decided was ironic. It read ‘ _ Why wait for tomorrow, when today is yesterday’s tomorrow?, _ ’ and Aaron had openly laughed when he read it, and saw the picture of a sunset that accompanied the words.

“I’ll hang it up as soon as I get back to my dorm,” he promised, and Alex wasn’t sure that he believed him, but he smiled at the idea of it anyways.

Finally, he’d gotten Laf a book about the implications of gendered words in the French language that he’d seen the boy eying in the bookstore, as well as a button covered in the pansexual flag’s colors, and a picture of a frying pan on it.

Laf grinned broadly at both gifts, attached the pin to his shirt right away, and waved the book at Alex. “You will read it too so we can discuss it, oui?” he asked, and Alex didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d gotten bored a few nights ago, and unwrapped the book, read it, and then re-wrapped it before anybody could know what he’d done.

After that, Alex had been content to watch everybody open their other gifts, but soon enough Laf was nudging him and the pile in front of him, and saying, “It is Christmas, Alexander- open your presents, already,” and Alex decided to oblige him.

From Aaron, he got a Princeton sweater to match the ones he’d gotten for everybody else, from Laf he got a phone case that said ‘Keep Calm and Fight Me’ on it, and from George and Martha, he got a wrist watch that looked old and simple and sturdy and, as always, Alex was immediately hung up on how much it must have cost them before-

“I hope you don’t think we’re just being cheap, but that’s actually a bit of a family heirloom- Laf and Aaron both got theirs years ago, and it’s sort of a tradition at this point, on 16 th birthdays normally, but you weren’t with us for yours, so we thought we’d give you one now,” George explained, rambling on more than usual, and Alex had to swallow back an avalanche of emotions that were absolutely terrifying but, for once, he also couldn’t find it in him to fight back.

For once, he believed them when they said that they wanted him around, so he swallowed again and blinked a few times to make sure there weren’t any tears left in his eyes, and then he smiled and said thank you, and George and Martha looked relieved and pleased all at once.

And then all of the presents were opened and George excused himself to make coffee, Aaron offered to make breakfast, Laf was starting his new book, Alex was finally texting John back, and Martha was going through a pile of previously unopened Christmas cards that had arrived in the mail, when she surprised Alex by holding one out to him.

“It’s got your name on it,” she said with a shrug, and then, “Maybe somebody from school, or an old family?”

As unlikely as that seemed, Alex took the envelope without question and, when Martha went back to sifting through the pile of cards in her lap, he opened it carefully, only to find a generic card with a Christmas tree on the front of it, staring back at him.

And then he opened the card, and his world turned upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any guesses as to who the letter is from?
> 
> (when you find out, please don't hate me! <3)
> 
> (also i'm going to try my best to get the next chapter up tonight as well, but no promises!)


	19. raise a glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new years eve!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i wrote this on a 10 hour bus ride and it's kind of all over the place so forgive anything terrible, and enjoy!)

_ Dear Alexander, _

_ It has become apparent through the media attention you’ve received as of late, that you are in a prosperous situation, and I am happy for you because of it. I’m proud of you, son. _

_ I’d like to meet up with you at your earliest convenience, and I’ll be hard pressed to take no for an answer. _

_ It’s been too long since I’ve last seen you and, while I fear that I am at fault, I’d like to change that now. I’ve seen the error of my previous ways, and I strongly believe that reconnecting now would come to benefit both of us in the long run. _

_ Kindly consider my offer, and know that I’ll be in touch either way. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Your father, _

_ J. Ham. _

 

Alex stared at the same words he’d been reading and re-reading all week, with the same sinking feeling in his stomach that had accompanied him since he’d opened the card.

Of course, when Laf knocked on his door he scrambled to hide the letter, and only just did so before the other boy burst into the room, wearing more sequins than Alex had realized possible, and with something sparkly woven into his hair.

He looked at Alex with something close to disapproval and for one heart stopping moment Alex was sure he knew all about the letter, but then he was shaking his head dramatically and saying, “Alexander, you’re supposed to be ready by now,” and Alex swallowed back his fear.

“I am ready?” he tried, and Laf shook his head again.

“No, no, no,” he said, and then, “It is New Year’s Eve. You need sparkles. What will John say when he sees you without any?”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Probably something along the lines of, ‘Hey Ham, I’m glad you didn’t wear anything ridiculous- now I won’t be embarrassed to be seen in public with you,’” he said, even as Laf rolled his eyes.

“We are not going out in public, so that will not happen,” he pointed out. “It is tradition for us to wear sparkles, and then to stay up all night, and then to fall asleep, and then to have breakfast in the middle of the afternoon and talk about our goals for the year that we will not fulfill, and we need to be at the Schuyler’s to start all of that in half an hour, so you need to put your sparkles on and stop complaining.”

Despite his protesting, Alex had to smile at that because, really, it sounded like a good time.

Still, he didn’t want to give in too easily, so he fought his face back into a scowl as he changed into the matching sequin tank top that Laf had given him, and then spun around with his hands on his hips. “Happy?” he asked and, despite his feigned attempt at discontent, Laf beamed, before he stood and headed for the door.

“Very,” he said, “But now we must go- BURR,” he yelled, even as Aaron practically materialized in front of them, with his usual, wry look on his face, and wearing a matching sequin tank top that Alex gawked at.

“He got you too?” he asked, and Aaron rolled his eyes.

“It’s tradition, Alexander,” he said, like it was perfectly normal to see the stiff, overly serious boy doing anything for fun.

Alex blinked, but before he could actually come up with a response, Laf was dragging him out to the car with Aaron on their heels, and then they were driving to the Schuyler’s.

And of course, the Schuyler’s lived in a mansion.

Despite the fact that all of his friends seemed to live in excessive luxury, Alex was sure that he’d never get used to it, and his mouth was still slightly agape when they rang the doorbell, and then let themselves in.

Phillip Schuyler had made himself scarce, as he apparently did every New Year’s Eve to enable the group’s sacred traditions, and had handed the house over to his daughters for the night. Alex had never actually been to their place before, but he was pretty sure that the shiny streamer’s, massive balloons, and signs that read ‘Happy New Year’s,’ weren’t usual fixtures.

Because of that, when Peggy greeted them at the door, he nodded towards the decorations and said, “Nice,” to which she rolled her eyes.

“That’s all Eliza,” she said, leading them further into the house, “Girl looks for any and every excuse to decorate.”

Alex was about to reply to that, when the kitchen came into view, and his jaw dropped again, this time at the sheer amount of food and drinks sitting out on the counter.

And then, by the time he got over that, his friends were talking around him and John was smiling at him from across the room, and Alex forgot to be overwhelmed and just let himself fall back into a conversation with Peggy, which mainly involved them eavesdropping on Aaron and Angelica’s stiff conversation and trying not to laugh, while they decided what drinks to mix.

And the night when on, and they moved to a room with a ridiculous amount of couches, and Alex found himself buried into John’s side with the other boy’s arm around him, and when somebody announced that it was time to start playing King’s Cup, he couldn’t help but groan.

And, of course, being so close together, John heard, and he shook Alex a tiny bit to get his attention. “Problem, Ham?” he asked, smiling despite Alex’s misery.

“Last time we played this, I died,” Alex said, already a tiny bit tipsy, much like everybody else around him. “I woke up the next morning, and I died.”

John looked like he was trying to hide a laugh, but his shoulders shook with it, giving him away. “Was that your first time drinking, though?” he asked, and Alex shrugged, non-committal. “I knew it,” John grinned, and then, “Don’t worry, Ham- I’ve got you this time.”

And how could Alex argue that?

The game went much like the last time they’d played; somehow, Angelica always drew cards that let her sing, Peggy followed through on absolutely ridiculous dares, the whole group conspired to get John and Alex closer together despite the fact that, as it was, they were practically sitting in each other’s laps, and, as a whole, everybody drank a bit more than they probably should have.

The only real difference was Aaron’s presence, and that became apparent when he drew a question card and, stiff lipped as ever, just barely agreed to answer their questions.

Alex thought back to the first time they’d played the game, and remembered how stressful that card had been for him, and decided in an instant, “I’ll go first!” and then everybody was looking at him and maybe his words had been slurred a little bit, so he focused on articulating them perfectly when he asked: “Aaron Burr, what is your favourite colour?”

The room filled with groans and rolled eyes and he felt John laugh again, but he focused intently on Aaron, who was definitely fighting back a smile as he said, “I’m partial to blue,” and Alex nodded solemnly.

Peggy was sitting beside Alex to the left, sort of on top of Hercules but definitely beside Alex, so she went next, with a smirk on her face when she asked, “When was the last time you got laid, Burr?” and this time everybody else cheered, while Aaron groaned.

“That’s crude,” he objected, “I don’t have to answer that.”

Angelica tisked. “Yes you do,” she said, with a glare that everybody knew better than to fight, as everybody else started nodding and insisting.

Finally, Aaron sighed. “Fine,” he said, and then, almost too quickly for anybody to actually understand, “I suppose it was the night before I came home for the break.”

That revelation was met with wide eyes from everybody, until John piped in with, “Theodosia, right?” and then the confused looks were turned on him.

Aaron’s face was paler than Alex had ever seen it, and his jaw stiffened noticeably. “Excuse me?” he asked, and Alex shifted so that he could see John’s face when he shrugged and said-

“That’s her name, right?”

Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?” he asked and, again, John shrugged, this time grinning.

“I like to check up on you, Burr- make sure you’re doing alright. Is it a crime to care?”

“How. Do. You. Know?”

John balked for a second at Aaron’s serious tone, and Alex wasn’t quite sure what to do with any of it. “Hercules is good at Facebook stalking- and Instagram, and snapchat, and twitter too, for that matter,” he said after a moment, and then, “We just put the pieces together. Really, though, she seems cool- what are you trying to hide, Burr?”

At that, Aaron looked the closest to losing his cool that Alex had ever seen him.

“I’m getting another drink,” he snapped  and, despite the bottles spread out across the table, he pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the kitchen, and then the group was left staring at each other before-

“I’ll go check on him,” Alex decided, squeezing John’s hand and extracting himself from his embrace, and bounding out of the room before anybody could stop him.

And then he was in the kitchen, staring at Aaron who looked more than a little bit distressed, and-

“Are you okay?” he tried, and when he didn’t get a response he continued with, “You know John didn’t mean to upset you, yeah? And like, Hercules really is great at Facebook stalking, and we all miss you when you’re at school, so like-”

“Is there a point to this, Alexander?” Aaron cut him off, and Alex deflated a bit, but shrugged.

“I’m just saying…” he muttered, mostly to himself, and then, “I’m sure Theodosia is cool,” and then he turned to go before Aaron could snap at him again, but-

“She’s engaged.”

“She’s what?”

“Engaged. Yeah. I just-” Aaron cut himself off and, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and his head tilted down and everything about him looking lost and out of place and the sequin tank top was somehow making it seem a lot sadder, and Alex felt a wave of sympathy crash over him.

“Shit.”

“I know. I just don’t know what I’m doing,” Aaron said quietly, and Alex nodded, because that was definitely something he could understand.

But understanding didn’t mean that he knew what to say, and by the time he finally settled on, “You’ll figure it out,” Aaron had pulled himself back together and was heading back to the group, with a new drink in hand.

“Thanks, Alex,” he said, quick and quiet as if he didn’t want the words to be real, and then, much more sure of himself, “I trust you won’t tell anybody?”

Alex nodded briefly, but he couldn’t help but add, “If you love her, just go for it, man,” and, at that, Aaron actually smiled, wearily, but it was still a smile, before he left the room and Alex was left trying to figure out what happened.

It was only seconds after he’d left, that Peggy poked her head through the door.

“Everything okay?” she asked and then, after Alex had nodded, “So. You and John?” Alex couldn’t help but smile at the mention of John, and Peggy smirked. “Cute.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “So are you and Hercules,” he said, and then, his face wrinkling a tiny bit in confusion, “Or you and Laf? Or Laf and Hercules? Or something?”

Peggy seemed to be fighting a smile. “Or something,” she agreed, “It’s complicated.”

Alex wanted to think those words over until he understood what they meant, but Peggy was holding out a hand and he grabbed it without question.

“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, “It’s almost midnight, and we’ve got one more game to play before that.”

Once Alex was situated back on the couch, curled up under John’s welcoming arm once again, the group explained the rules of ‘Raise a Glass.’

“It’s New Year’s, so we’ve got to make resolutions-”

“Even if we aren’t going to keep any of them-”

“Would a bit of optimism kill you, Burr?”

“Sorry, Laf.”

“Anyways so everybody says what their resolution it-”

“And if you decide to take it on as well, you raise your glass-”

“And everybody who raises their glass drinks together-”

“And then they’re contractually obliged to follow through with the resolution-”

“Even if, statistically, nobody does.”

“Really, Burr?”

Alex tried to follow along with the whole thing, and at the end of it all he ended up nodding. “Right. I drink,” he said, and everybody exchanged looks with each other, before Angelica shrugged.

“That’s the general idea, yeah,” she agreed, and then the game was starting.

Peggy went first with, “At the request of my darling sisters, I’m going to make better, more rational decisions this year,” and then raised her glass.

Alex could probably stand to do that, so he raised his glass as well, and so did Maria. The three of them drank together, and then it was Hercules’ turn, and then Laf’s, and then Eliza’s, and it wasn’t until Maria went, that one of the resolutions actually struck a chord with Alex.

“I’m going to start leaving my past in the past and focus on the people who matter to me now,” she said, with a look towards Eliza that Alex couldn’t hope to understand, but everybody in the group muttered their approval and he was pretty sure he heard Angelica say, ‘I’m proud of you,’ but he was, for the moment too lost in his thoughts to focus on Maria.

Instead, he was thinking about the card back in his room, stuffed under his bed.

He was thinking about his father and the sick feeling that accompanied thoughts of the man, and he thought about his life now.

He looked around the room at his friends, and he looked up at John, and across the room at Laf, and he thought of George and Martha and all of the good things they’d brought into his life, and then he thought about his father again.

He had vague memories of the man, yes, but none of them were spectacular and, truthfully, he didn’t even know which ones were real.

He did remember his father leaving. That was real.

He remembered social workers trying to hunt him down after Alex’s mother died, and he remembered how unsuccessful they’d been. That was also real.

Suddenly, bitterness was washing over him and he hated everything about how he felt in that moment, so he raised his glass and decided then, that he was going to burn the card as soon as he got home.

He drank with Maria and ignored the contemplative look that it got him from Laf, and then they rushed through the rest of the game because midnight was five minutes away, and then it was ten seconds away, and they were all a bit drunk and a lot excited, and suddenly the prospect of a new year was nothing short of miraculous in Alex’s mind, and then the counting was done and John’s lips were pressed against his.

His mind was still buzzing- his whole body was- and the kiss was chaste and over too soon, but when Alex opened his eyes, John was beaming down at him and then, before Alex could really register what was happening, John said, “You should go on a date with me,” and Alex blinked.

“A what?” he asked, smiling, as John shook his head slightly, laughing.

“A date, Ham,” he said, sounding painfully exasperated and a tiny bit nervous, and Alex’s heart melted as he continued with, “You know, dinner or a movie or a walk on the beach or whatever- just- we should hang out in like, a romantic sense, you know?”

In response, Alex stood on his toes and pressed another kiss to John’s lips, and nodded against them.

“We should definitely go on a date,” he agreed, and John laughed and he laughed, and then they were pulled apart and back into their friends New Year’s celebrations, and Alex couldn’t remember feeling happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @everybody who guessed alex's father- nice.
> 
> aaaaaaaaand your comments have literally made my life and i'm going to respond them as soon as i get a chance but for now i just really wanted to get this up because tbh the cliffhanger was stressing me out, so enjoy this and i'll be back in full swing in a week <3


	20. date night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john's backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out i write to avoid real life stuff, so here you go, friends!
> 
> **vague mentions of parents who are homophobic, and more talk of alex not being out to the washington's, but (in my opinion) nothing particularly dark/heavy in regards to that

Alex didn’t end up burning the card.

He wanted to, but every time he tried, something came up.

The first time he’d gone to dispose of it, he’d gotten distracted by the return address on the envelope that it’d come in. If google maps was correct, the address was just on the other side of town, and Alex got lost thinking about all of the different things that could mean.

The second time he’d been ready to burn it had only been a few hours after that, but George had knocked on his door and interrupted him with an invitation to go shopping and, while Alex had opted to stay home, he’d been too skittish to actually do anything other than pace his floor and think.

The third time, he’d focused on the signature at the bottom of the note, and it felt altogether way too familiar. ‘ _ J.Ham _ .’ It was the same way he signed his own name, and that felt important.

And then he’d been interrupted by Laf, and by Aaron, and he’d gotten distracted a few times, and one time he’d been concerned about fire safety, and he came up with about a million more reasons as to why he should keep the letter, before he decided that almost nobody honored drunken New Year’s resolutions anyways, and that it would be ridiculous to hold himself to the one that he’d made.

The card stayed under his bed, and he went on with his life.

He went on his date with John, and it was almost perfect.

They went to see Ghostbusters because, as John put it,  _ “This is going to be the most stereotypical first date in the history of the world, but at least we’ll get to see Chris Hemsworth as a cute secretary and Leslie Jones being awesome in general?” _

They sat in the back and ate copious amounts of popcorn and whisper-debated plot points and ignored the glares they got for it, and every once in a while Alex would lean his head against John’s shoulder and John would kiss the top of it and pull him closer, and Alex would hide his smile in his boyfriends shirt.

John drove him home afterwards, and Alex ignored the texts Laf had sent him asking, ‘ _ how did it go, mon ami???’ _ and the million winky faces that followed, and turned in his seat to focus on John instead.

“So,” he started, tentatively aware of the silence he was breaking, as John turned the music down to listen to him, “You had fun?”

At that, John grinned and focused on Alex for a second too long, considering he was driving and all. “No, Ham,” he said, sarcastic, “It was awful. I’ve been counting down the minutes until I can get rid of you and start to forget about the whole thing.”

Alex huffed with indignation, and made a show of turning away. “I feel the same way,” he said, stubborn, even as John reached across their seats and grabbed his hand.

“No you don’t,” he sang, and Alex fought a smile.

“I definitely do.”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you blushing?” John asked and then, when Alex was done sputtering out half-hearted protests, John lifted the hand he was still holding to his face and pressed a kiss to it, and it was possibly the cheesiest thing that had ever happened, but Alex loved every second of it. “Don’t worry, Ham,” he said, “I like you too.”

Those words danced in Alex’s head for the rest of the ride home, and then they got there and John pulled into the Washington’s driveway and parked the car, and then he was leaning over and Alex knew what was happening, but all of a sudden he was very aware of the lights that were still on in the house, and he leaned back before he could stop himself, wincing when a pained look flashed across John’s face.

“Am I misreading something here?” John asked after a pregnant pause, and Alex bit his lip. “Because it really hasn’t felt like that, but…?”

“I-” Alex cut himself off, and glanced back towards the house before he focused on John entirely, and the knowing look that was growing on his face. “I just haven’t told them that I’m not exactly straight yet? Like obviously Laf knows and Aaron does too but he promised not to tell and it’s not like I’m ashamed or anything and I know they probably won’t care because they’re cool with Laf being pan and all but it just seems like a really big risk and every time I think about telling them I get really nervous and shaky because like, they’re really great and I kind of like it here and I don’t want anything to ruin it, you know?”

By the time he finished his rant, John was looking at him with a soft smile on his face that helped calm Alex’s racing heart.

“I get it,” he said, gentler than Alex had ever heard him, and then, “But for the record, George and Martha know that I’m gay, and they’re cool with that too- not that you should feel obliged to tell them anything, but, you know, just if that helps the nerves or anything?”

“It does,” Alex said, only partly believing his own words, but also believing that, in time, they would probably be true, before he asked, “You seem to be really close with them- Martha and George, I mean-?”

John’s smile faded and he glanced away and Alex realized that he was prying again so-

“Sorry- you really don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he corrected himself, going on with, “It’s none of my business and I-”

“No,” John interrupted, shaking his head before he looked back to Alex, “It’s cool- it’s just not the nicest story, is all.”

“You don’t have to…”

“But I want to, Ham,” John said, gentle again, but this time it was mixed with a vulnerability that made Alex want to wrap him in blankets and never let the world near him again.

When he spoke again, after a few silent moments, those feelings were solidified.

“My brother and my mom were in a car wreck last year and they sort of died,” John explained, his voice almost clinically detached in a way that would have worried Alex, if it weren’t for the fact that John was also squeezing his hand almost painfully tight. “I was in it too, but I was fine- like, hospital for a few days and a minor concussion and bruised ribs, but nothing terrible, you know?”

Alex couldn’t find the words to say that anything hurting John, no matter how minor, was terrible in his eyes, so he just nodded and let him continue.

“Right, well, naturally, my dad didn’t take the whole thing very well and we’d never gotten along all that great to begin with, so after the accident he just kind of started ignoring me?” he continued, and Alex squeezed his hand back. “Right, so, I was fine with that because I was kind of fucked up at the time too, but my dad started- uh- you know, drinking and stuff, and I’m pretty sure he got into harder stuff too but nobody’ll actually tell me anything, but anyways he ended up in rehab after a while, so the Washington’s kind of took me in for a bit and were just, you know, kind of there for me, which they didn’t have to do, you know?”

John finished the story with a shrug, like it was nothing, and Alex at least understood that.

He understood downplaying pain to avoid pity, and he understood that the last thing John wanted to hear was an ‘ _ I’m sorry _ ,’ but he also understood that he needed to do  _ something _ , so he took his seat belt off and reached both arms across the seat and hugged John as tightly as he could and, after a moment, John relaxed into the embrace.

“That’s really, really shitty,” Alex eventually muttered, and John let out a startled, hoarse laugh, before he pulled back slightly.

“Eloquent. Really. You’ve outdone yourself, Ham,” he said, and Alex grinned sheepishly before he leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on John’s cheek.

“Thank you for telling me,” Alex said, and John shrugged again.

“Anything for you,” he replied, completely over dramatic with a smirk to match it, before he pressed a quick kiss to Alex’s forehead, and then pulled back entirely. “But now you’d better get going.”

Alex nodded and started collecting himself, but before he reached to open the door, he turned back to John, because there was still one thing on his mind, and-

“Are you sure you don’t mind that I’m not telling George and Martha- well.”

John didn’t even blink before he said, “Alex, I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” and then, “Besides- it’s not like my dad knows anything about you, so.”

Alex nodded at that, because it seemed fair enough, and John continued quickly with-

“Not because I don’t care, of course, I just don’t want to send him spiralling into an alcoholic stupor again, you know?”

“You dating a guy would do that?”

John shrugged, and Alex considered that.

“Well then,” he said after a moment, deciding that, other than any effects it would have on John, he really didn’t care about the boy’s father at all, “I’d say we made a good match, Laurens.”

John grinned and said, “I’d have to agree, Ham,” and then, smiling even more, “Now, get the fuck out of my car,” and this time Alex obliged, sticking his tongue out as he went.

The fact that John didn’t drive away until Alex was actually inside  _ did not  _ make his heart flutter, but he was grateful to find that the Washington’s were nowhere to be seen, meaning that he could head straight to his room in peace.

Except of course he couldn’t, because of course Laf was waiting for him on Alex’s bed, sprawled out and playing on his phone, as if he belonged there.

“I get that this house is huge,” Alex started, as soon as he got over the surprise of seeing Laf there, “But shouldn’t you be used to it by now? I mean, you’re lost, right? That’s why you’re here?”

Laf rolled his eyes.

“My house in France was bigger,” he said with a wave of his hand, before he even looked up from his phone, and Alex gave up on looking frustrated and just flopped onto the bed beside him. “And you did not answer my texts and neither did John, so I did not have a choice.”

“We were talking,” Alex said, and the emphasis he put on the last word did nothing to stop Laf from wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and Alex sighed. “He told me about his family,” he continued, and that seemed to catch Laf’s attention, and Alex would have been concerned, if he didn’t realize that Laf already knew John’s whole story.

Still, Alex doesn’t elaborate and after a moment Laf put his phone down. “I take it the date went well, then?” he asked, and Alex blushed.

He muttered something along the lines of, “I really like him,” and Laf beamed.

“Good,” he said, and then, “You will be good for each other.”

Alex nodded, and then Laf’s phone buzzed at least five times in a row and, when he checked it, an even broader smile broke out across his face.

“Our John seems to have enjoyed it as much as you,” he said, and when Alex realized what, exactly, the words meant, Laf was smirking over his shoulder and heading out the door, with nothing but a, “ _ Goodnight, Alexander _ ,” still echoing in the room as the door shut.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed as well and he looked down to see the words, ‘ _ Goodnight, Ham _ ’ flashing across the screen, and he smiled as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are wonderful, your comments never fail to make me smile, and i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3


	21. j. ham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex meets up with his father

When winter break ended, Alex was glad to go back to school. It gave him work to do and a routine to follow and, as it turned out, those were two things that he needed to survive.

Every day he woke up, Laf drove him to school, he went to class, he hung out with his friends, he hung out with John, he went home and ate dinner with the Washington’s, he did his homework, he pretended to sleep, he wrote, and he repeated it all the next day.

He pretended that everything was normal, and it almost worked.

The only difference was that, now, he also made sure that he was the first to check the mail every morning, and he made sure that none of it was addressed to him.

It never was and, because of that, he started to relax.

He told himself that the  _ ‘I’ll be in touch either way _ ’ had been an empty threat and he almost believed it, until he got to school one morning and found a note in his locker.

He’d been trying to decide which textbooks to bring to class and which to leave behind, half listening to Laf and Peggy bicker about nothing in particular, when the envelope had all but fallen into his hands, and he recognized the handwriting immediately.

And then he heard Hercules and John making their way down the hall, and Alex shoved the letter into his pocket before he could think about it twice.

Ten minutes later he was in English class, sitting between Eliza and Maria, practically vibrating in his seat with no hope of paying attention. 

Five minutes after that he excused himself to the washroom, and it was only when he was there, definitely alone, that he pulled the letter out of his pocket, unfolded it carefully, and took in the words that were written on it:

 

_ Alexander, _

_ There’s a coffee shop on Hyde Park Ave a few blocks from your school. Meet me there at lunch, and come alone. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ J. Ham _

 

He threw the letter out, and stormed back to class.

He made it halfway there before doubt started to creep in, and he went back for it.

When he finally did get back to class, the letter was stored in his pocket, and his stomach was rolling. He ignored the worried look that Eliza gave him and the similar look that she then exchanged with Maria, and pretended to focus on what was being written on the blackboard.

His mind was running a mile a minute, but none of it related to English class.

_ ‘Come alone _ ’ didn’t bode well, but Alex also couldn’t find it in him to be afraid.

In all of the time he’d known his father, it was an emotion that he simply didn’t associate with the man. There was disappointment and shame, but there was never fear.

There was a lot of loneliness and there was a lot of confusion as well, and maybe that was why, when lunch rolled around and he and Angelica normally walked from their class to the cafeteria, Alex told her that he wasn’t feeling well, and that he was going to spend the period in the library.

The lie rolled off his tongue and it didn’t take very much convincing for her to believe him and she left him with a slightly skeptical but content, “Alright, if you’re sure,” and then Alex realized that he was homefree.

He also realized that he had no idea what he was going to do, or what he wanted to do, so he did the only thing he could think of, and he started walking.

Nobody looked at him twice as he made his way out of the school, down the street, and towards the coffee shop in question. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he turned it off without reading the message.

His hands were shaking in his pockets, and his vision was slightly blurred, and he still had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, and then he was at the coffee shop and he felt numb.

He wanted to leave, but his legs wouldn’t move.

He could see his father, sitting at a table in the corner, drinking coffee and staring at his phone and looking a hell of a lot better than he had the last time Alex had seen him.

He looked bigger.

Stronger and healthier, like he was been eating regularly.

He looked nervous, like he was trying to make himself smaller, but like he didn’t quite know how to.

He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket and his hair was long, like Alex’s, but he wore his down, instead of up like Alex had taken to.

The last time Alex had seen him, he hadn’t realized what was happening; his father went out a lot, and Alex had figured that he’d be back some time the next morning. It hadn’t happened and, over the years, Alex had let that memory cloud over with hate.

Now, staring at the man, none of that hate was there.

It had dissolved and, without it, Alex felt empty and  _ that  _ was a feeling that he definitely hated and maybe that was why he shook his head and bit his lip and, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that it was a terrible idea but not bothering to care, he opened the door and walked inside.

And then, the second the bell rang above him, his father looked up and he was lost.

He felt like a kid again, and he felt like the past five years hadn’t happened, but that wasn’t the case at all and the first words out of the man's mouth reminded him of that:

“You looked younger in the paper- damn, kid, you’re all grown up.”

A hollow laugh left Alex’s throat, though he didn’t feel in control of his body at all. “It’s been known to happen,” he said, with a lot less bite than he wanted, but his father still winced so he took it as a victory.

He looked like he had a million things to say- it was a look that Alex recognized on himself all too well- but, after a moment, all he said was, “Sit down, would you?” and Alex didn’t feel strong enough to do anything else.

The table was small so he leaned back in his seat, wanting distance between them, though not entirely sure why, and his father sighed when he noticed.

“Look, kid,” he started, but Alex interrupted him with an-

“I’m not a kid,” that was sharp and abrasive and a bit too loud, because it got him a concerned look from the barista, and a reproachful one from the girl at the table beside theirs.

“Of course you’re not,” his father agreed, and then, with a laugh, “Jesus, look at you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes, not quite seeing the humor in the situation, and not sure if he wanted to. “Why the sudden interest in that?” he asked, and bile rose in his throat when he saw his father’s failed attempt at a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been years,” Alex said, and he hated that he had to spell it out because every second he did, he started to doubt himself a little bit more, but he went on anyways, “And you haven’t tried to contact me yet, so why now?”

His father blinked and looked down into his coffee for a moment, before he sighed. “I should have expected this, I suppose,” was all he said, and Alex blinked as well. 

“Probably,” he agreed, and then, using his anger like a crutch, “I mean, I personally don’t know much about having kids but, from what I hear, abandoning them does tend to leave them with some questions, you know?”

“I deserve that,” his father said, and his voice was laced with a pity that Alex couldn’t quite handle, so he pushed back, away from the table and out of his chair.

“Fuck you,” he spat, and then he was gone, storming out of the coffee shop and down the street, with nothing but fire and ice coursing through him because he’d just seen his father, and that didn’t make any sense at all, and he had better people to go home to, but then-

A hand grabbed his arm, and he was being spun around, and he was face to face with the man again, and this time-

“I’m sorry, alright? I fucked up, and we both know that, but I’m here now and I’m trying to make it right, and I can’t do that if you don’t listen to me.”

Alex hadn’t expected to be chased and he hadn’t expected an apology and, with those words, all of the fight seemed to leave him and he went limp.

His father noticed, and took a step back.

“Can we try this again?” he asked and, for some reason that he couldn’t quite understand, Alex nodded, and relief flooded his father's face. “Same spot, tomorrow?”

Alex was about to nod, but then- “My friends will notice if I’m gone.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Did they notice your absence today?” he asked, and Alex only doubted himself for a second before he shook that away.

“I told them I wasn’t feeling well,” he explained, and then, “Would Monday work?”

His father looked ready to argue, his jaw clenched and his posture tense, but then he nodded. “Monday’s fine- I’ll see you then,” he said, and then, lighter, “I’m looking forward to it, Alexander.”

Alex nodded, because he couldn’t quite bring himself to do anything else, and then he turned and walked away and, while his steps started out firm and sure, by the time he was back at the school he was dragging his feet along the sidewalk, exhausted and completely drained, and too lost in thought to care.

And then the bell rang and he had to run to get to class on time, but Ms. Marshall only raised an eyebrow at his near-tardiness.

Peggy, on the other hand, looked less than impressed.

“Damn, Hamilton, you really do look like shit,” she said, and then, “But I know you weren’t in the library, so spill.”

Alex blinked. “I- what?”

“Angelica told us you weren’t feeling well, John texted you, you never replied, I checked the library, you weren’t there, and we all spent the last half of lunch convinced that you were dead.”

“I- shit,” Alex said, his mind racing to think up a cover story, before the most obvious one came to mind and he continued with, “I went for a walk- thought I could use some fresh air, you know?”

Peggy nodded, but she still had an eyebrow raised. “Your phone?”

Alex checked it when the teacher wasn’t looking, and realized that Peggy had been right about the messages from John, and then from everybody else, once they’d realized that he wasn’t in the library. “It was off,” he said sheepishly, and Peggy rolled her eyes.

“Of course it was,” she said, but left it there and, for that, Alex was infinitely grateful.

He wanted to tell her what had happened- he wanted to ask her about her own parents and find out what she would do in his situation and, more than anything, he wanted somebody, anybody, really, to help him and to tell him what to do but, for some reason, the words never came to him.

Instead, he accidentally fell asleep in class and woke up an hour later to the sound of the bell ringing and, for half a second, he wasn’t sure what was real and what had been a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not entirely sure how i feel about this chapter but i get kind of antsy when i don't post, so here it is anyways?
> 
> as always, if you liked it let me know what you think?
> 
> <3


	22. sunday night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> laf and alex have a heart to heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vague descriptions of a panic attack, but nothing super graphic (in my opinion, which obviously doesn't apply to everybody, so if you want to play it safe and not read this you can always just leave a comment and i'd be more than happy to summarize the chapter for you because let's be real panic attacks are the worst and i am 100% for avoiding them at all costs, which is why i kept the description super vague and low key and you could very easily read this and just assume that alex was crying a lot which i'm okay with y'all doing if you want so YEAHH this got long and winded and out of hand is it obvious that idk what i'm doing yet?)

The rest of the week passed in a blur, and the weekend did as well.

Alex focused on school, and not much else. He worked and he studied and when he ran out of work to do he worked ahead, and he kept himself distracted because if he was distracted he didn’t panic.

Sunday night came sooner than Alex expected, and he ended up panicking anyways.

The Washington’s were out of town for George’s campaign, and it snowed all day, and it didn’t slow down as the night went on, and then the power went out.

Alex had been in his room with most of the lights off anyways but, without his bedside lamp or the light from his computer or the comment he'd been typing on an article, he was in the dark completely and entirely, and he was reminded of just how much he hated that.

The power had gone out more than once in his house in Nevis during storms, and then it had gone out for good during the hurricane. They’d moved to America soon after that and it hadn’t been as much of a problem but, even then, Alex remembered the bills that his parents hadn’t always been able to pay, and the consequences that they held.

The silence that filled the house when the power went out was full and haunting and all encompassing, and it left Alex alone with the thoughts and memories that he was trying to avoid.

It crept in on him and it made it hard for him to breathe, and he felt completely and entirely helpless against it. All he knew was that his chest was tightening, and that he was too afraid to move, and that he felt the world falling down on top of him, and it was all hitting him at once.

Because of that, relief flooded over him when his door opened and Laf flew in, with a flashlight in hand that he immediately shone on Alex’s face, but then-

“Alexander, are you crying?” he demanded, and when Alex lifted a hand to his face he was surprised to find that it was damp.

“I-” he started, but he was interrupted by the lights flashing on and his computer whirring to life in his lap and the entire house waking up around him, and he let out a sigh of relief before- “Shit- I was just- I- fuck.”

As always, Laf knew exactly what to do and say and, in this case, he just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, and Alex fell apart.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been crying to begin with and he didn’t know why he was crying now, but the tears were falling out of his eyes and his whole body was shaking, and then Laf was in bed beside him with his arms wrapped around Alex, and Alex just let it all happen.

He realized, after a moment, that he was exhausted.

It was the kind of tired that sank into your bones and kept you up at night, and the kind that you can’t shake no matter what you do, and the kind that Alex had been running from his whole life.

It was the kind that always caught up to him in the end, and he had no idea what to do with it, but Laf was there and he was holding Alex and telling him that he’d be fine, and Alex was too tired to even believe him, but he wanted to.

He wanted to fall asleep and stay that way for a week, and he wanted a break, and he didn’t want to talk at all, but he had to, because Laf had just watched him reach a new low, and-

“Please, don’t tell anybody,” he all but whimpered and then, when Laf pulled back slightly and hummed in response, Alex repeated himself with more conviction. “The power going out just surprised me but I swear to god I’m fine- like, I panicked for a minute, and then you were here and I don’t really know what happened but I probably just need to sleep or something and I swear to god I’ll be fine so please just don’t tell anybody.”

Laf pulled back further, and Alex looked up to see him frowning.

“Please, Laf,” he tried again, softer, looking away at the end because he hated how close to begging he sounded, and Laf at least nodded at that.

“Do you want to tell me what is the matter?” he asked after a moment, and Alex shrugged, already wiping his face dry and trying to move on.

“Like I said- the power went out and I just kind of panicked? It’s nothing, really.”

“It is not nothing, mon ami,” Laf said, gentle but a tiny bit exasperated, “Nobody cries that much about nothing.”

That was all but impossible to deny, so Alex didn’t bother trying. “I’m just tired,” he said, and Laf didn’t look surprised at all.

“That is because you do too much,” he said, and then, “And now, you need to sleep.”

It was the rational solution and, realistically, Alex knew that sleep would probably help him more than anything. Still, the thought of Laf leaving and turning the lights out as he went, and Alex having to lay in the dark by himself was almost unbearable and, even as Laf was moving off the bed, still frowning, Alex felt panic bubble up in his chest, so-

“Wait,” he said, grabbing the other boy’s wrist and tugging on it, and then jumping on the first question that came to mind which turned out to be- “Tell me about your parents?”

If Laf thought the question was strange or out of place, he didn’t say anything. Instead, his frown fell away and so did the wrinkles on his forehead, and he pursed his lips for a moment before he leaned back against the headboard, beside Alex.

It was only then that he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is there a reason you ask, mon ami?” and Alex shrugged.

“I- just curious, I guess,” he said, and Laf studied him for a moment longer, before he nodded.

“My father died when I was six, and I do not have many memories of him,” he said, contemplative and open and a tiny bit sad, “But he was a good man. He served in the military and that is how he died as well but, before that, he never missed anything important. He is in all of the pictures from my childhood- my first birthday and the first time I walked and my first day of school, and then a few weeks after that he left for work and he never came home again.”

Alex swallowed back an  _ I’m sorry, _ but he did grab one of Laf’s hands to hold as the story continued.

“My mother was a teacher, and she passed away when I was nine, and she had been sick for some time before that, and I remember her telling me that she was going to visit my father, and that they would both see me again one day. She was a professor before that, and I still have all of the cards that her students wrote her while she was in the hospital.”

It was strange, seeing Laf completely still and deep in thought, and it was almost unsettling. His face was softer than ever, but still like marble, and his eyes were hazy. Alex held back a sigh of relief when he finally smiled a tiny bit, and spoke again.

“They were both very remarkable.”

“You miss them?” Alex asked, soft and almost in awe of his friend, who just continued to smile.

“Every day,” he agreed, and Alex swallowed.

His past way more similar to Laf’s than he wanted to admit, and it was more than obvious that, if given the chance, Laf would be thrilled to see his father again. 

Alex, on the other hand, had almost blown his chance at reconnecting with his own father and, with that in mind, the vast majority of doubt he’d felt about seeing the man on Monday all but disappeared.

Apparently noticing a change in Alex, Laf raised an eyebrow.

“You are feeling better, mon ami?”

“I- yeah,” Alex nodded, and then, “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Laf said, and then he was moving to sit up again and Alex still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, so-

“Tell me more about them?”

Laf raised an eyebrow and cast a wary look towards the clock, but he nodded slowly and settled himself back against Alex’s headboard, and let Alex curl into his side as he began to weave stories that sounded too good to be true.

He told Alex about extravagant birthday parties, and ridiculous games that only kids found fun and only parents put up with, and about normal, mundane activities that sounded brilliant and magical because even when he talked about things that should have been boring, Laf spoke with love and nostalgia and longing, and it made it all sound beautiful.

It filled Alex with the same sort of longing and, with that, he found himself growing excited.

He fell asleep that night, still tucked into Laf’s side not entirely sure of anything other than the fact that he was going to see his father tomorrow and, this time, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point i'm just breaking my own heart by writing this story, so i've already written the epilogue where everybody's happy and i'm mentally planning a 4 years later fic where everybody is also happy, so at least there's that?


	23. a proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> j.ham is back and worse than ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of a homophobic comments being made by teachers

Despite falling asleep earlier than usual, Alex tossed and turned all night and, by the time Monday morning came along and he found himself getting ready for school, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all.

His hands were shaking as he picked out his clothes, and his stomach was churning in a way that made it impossible for him to even consider eating breakfast and, even when spoken to, he found that he was just too distracted to actually hold a conversation for longer than a few minutes. He told himself that his nerves were a result of his excitement being built up, and he almost believed it.

Still, he went through his normal motions as well as he could and soon enough he was sitting in his first class of the day, listening to Maria and Eliza discuss (re: tear apart) Dorian Grey, while he tapped his foot against the floor and his pen against the table, and didn’t really pay attention to much of anything at all. Because of that, it took him a moment too long to realize that they’d stopped talking and had taken to staring at him, at which point Alex blinked.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, and Eliza stifled a giggle while Maria outright snorted.

“I asked if you were actually planning on joining us in class today, or if you were content to keep floating through space,” Maria said, amused but not unkind, and Alex took a moment to process the words, and then he sat up a bit straighter.

“I’m just  _ thinking  _ about the book, rather than spitting out the first thing that comes to mind and calling it an analysis,” he said, more defensive than necessary and Maria, never being one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow.

“Because thinking before you speak is something that you specialize in,” she said, and then- “ _ Ow _ \- what did you kick me for?” to Eliza, whose lips were still pursed, as she did her best to glare at the two of them.

“It’s  _ Monday _ ,” she said, emphasizing the day in a way that momentarily made Alex panic, before- “Cut him a bit of slack, would you? We’re all tired.”

Maria rolled her eyes and Alex was ready to gloat, but Eliza turned her gaze on him and something in it kept him silent as she continued.

“And you,” she said, pointedly, “Need to pay more attention. This is going to be on the exam, and it’s not like you to not have a million things to say about something- is everything alright?”

Alex rolled his eyes and tried to brush her concern off. “What happened to,  _ ‘it’s Monday, cut him some slack? _ ’” he asked, and Eliza sighed but nodded.

They went back to talking about the novel easily enough, and Alex did his best to pay more attention to the discussion, and he actually found himself enjoying it. Maria took pride in her ability to find homoerotic undertones in everything, and Eliza was a pro at understanding character’s motives, and it was all a good distraction.

After that, Alex spent politics ignoring Jefferson and trying to focus his attention on the movie they were watching, but by the end of the class he was back to practically vibrating in his seat.

This time, when Angelica raised an eyebrow and asked if he was coming to lunch, Alex stayed in his seat.

“I’ve got to talk to Mr. Coulter about our last assignment,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“You mean the 2 page response to our reading, that you actually wrote 5 pages on?”

Now that she mentioned it, Alex did need to talk to him about that, so he nodded his head and she rolled her eyes again, before waving goodbye and leaving him alone with the teacher. And then, because Alex really didn’t like lying, he did talk to the teacher and was pleased when he left the room ten minutes later, with a mark that was two grade points higher than it had been before.

Of course, his high spirits gave way to nerves soon enough and, by the time Alex made it to the coffee shop, he was shivering in his jacket and clenching his hands into fists to keep from fiddling.

When he looked around and saw that his father was nowhere to be found, he told himself that it didn’t mean anything, and ordered a coffee. On second thought, he ordered two, and filled his mug with sugar and cream, while he left the other one black, in front of the empty seat across from him.

After a few moment of waiting, he pulled out his phone to distract himself, and ignored the messages that were waiting for him. If his cover story was that he’d spent lunch talking to Mr. Coulter, than replying to the messages wouldn’t make sense.

Still, he smiled at the group chat as he read Laf’s complaints about how, ‘ _ gym class may be the death of me, but it’s better than health class by a long shot, _ ’ and then his smile turned into a frown as he read, ‘ _ guess who the teacher called unnatural today! _ ’ John chipped in with,  _ ‘technically speaking, pretty much all of us,’ _ and Peggy changed the name of the chat to  _ ‘Unnatural™ _ ’ but Alex was sure it stung his friends as much as it did him.

Not for the first time, he realized how lucky he was to have found them.

He was contemplating that, still reading the messages that had piled up, when he heard a throat being cleared and looked up to see his father, with snow clinging to his hair and his eyebrows raised.

“Reading something interesting?” he asked, nodding towards Alex’s phone, and Alex set it down as he shook his head.

“Just my friends- we’ve got a group chat and they were just talking about- well, nothing,” he half-explained, before he gestured to the chair in front of him, and continued with, “But hey- I got you coffee? But I wasn’t sure how you take it so I left it black but the cream and sugar and stuff are over by the counter if you want any, which obviously you know because you were here the other day so –yeah.”

A smile was playing at the man’s lips as he sat down and said, “Black’s fine,” and then, “You always did talk a lot.”

Alex wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but he shrugged as he felt his cheeks warm. “I get carried away sometimes,” he mumbled, and his father just nodded.

“You learned to talk young, too,” he said, and Alex perked up slightly because his mother had always told him the same thing and, even if she’d said it a bit more fondly than his father had, it stirred up something in his heart. “For a while there nobody understood a word you were saying- you’d start a sentence in English, and move onto French or Spanish before you’d finished the first word.”

Alex smiled slightly, despite himself. “I’m still fluent in all three,” he said, maybe a bit too proud and a bit too close to bragging, but his father smiled back at him so he decided to let it pass.

The next words out of his father’s mouth all but erased Alex’s smile:

“Your mother would be proud of you,” he said, as if he had any right to tell Alex how his mother would feel, or even talk about the woman at all.

Alex was surprised by the amount of anger that the relatively innocent statement brought out, but he stopped himself before he could act on it. He was reconnecting with his father, and he was lucky to have the chance to, and he wasn’t going to ruin it. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Yeah,” he said, uncertain and uncomfortable, before he followed it up quickly with, “So, how have you been?” and if his father saw anything strange about that, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he launched into what was possibly the most generic answer Alex had ever heard, and he found himself eating up every word of it, until his father finished with a shrug and said, “So, that’s about it. I’ve moved around a lot, the usual, really. But, hey- I’m not the interesting one here- how have you been?”

“Good,” Alex said, jumping on his automatic response to the question before he added, “I’ve been moving around a lot too,” decidedly glossing over the reasons behind that, and how shitty it had actually been, and finishing with, “But I’ve been here a few months now, and it looks like I might be sticking around a while, so that’s good- I mean, if you’re around here too we can probably do this again or something?”

His father smiled slightly and said, “I’d like that,” though the smile didn’t meet his eyes and Alex noticed the second it fell away, and a new look took over the man’s face. “You really think you’ll be here a while?” he asked, and Alex’s brow furrowed.

He shrugged as casually as he could manage, as he took in the implication of his words. “George and Martha say they’ll let me stay for as long as I want, so,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice even, as his father raised an eyebrow.

“You believe that?”

Alex swallowed. “They haven’t lied to me yet,” he said, now stiff and unsure of where exactly the conversation was headed, and trying to ignore the ‘ _ unlike you _ ,’ that was echoing in the back of his mind.

“And if your George wins the election? You think they let foster kids stay in the White House?” he asked, with a laugh that grated at Alex’s mind, and Alex felt a lump growing in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down, and he felt like he was floating, and he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing at all. “You don’t think you’re being a bit naïve?”

At that, Alex snapped, “I’m not naïve,” and his father held up his hands, as if he were giving in. Alex was still trying to catch his bearings when he asked, “Why are you talking about this?” moments later, and his father sighed.

“I’m worried about you, k-”

“I’m not a-”

“Not a kid- right,” he continued, “But you are my family, and family looks out for one another, and that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

That sounded fair and not entirely wrong, but- “Aren’t you a bit late for that?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” his father asked, and Alex had been prepared to storm out of the café and never look back, but those words were all it took to remind him of why he was there to begin with, and he all but wilted in his seat.

Still, he didn’t let his guard down immediately- really, that was something that he hadn’t done in years- and, instead, he asked, “You really want to help me?” and his father hesitated for a moment, before-

“I want to do what I can.”

Alex’s brow furrowed, because that response sounded practiced. “What does that mean?”

“You need my consent to file for emancipation,” he explained, like it made perfect sense even though it was just about the last thing Alex had expected to hear, and-

“What.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” his father goaded, and Alex shrugged because he was pretty sure there wasn’t a foster kid alive who hadn’t dreamed of it at one point or another, and then man took that as reason to continue. “You wouldn’t need a guardian, you’d get your own place…”

Alex blinked, and then he stopped listening to the list of reasons why emancipation was a good idea, and started mentally kicking himself over just how stupid he’d been. He didn’t bother asking the first question that had popped into his mind- he knew the answer.

At this point, asking ‘ _ why can’t I just live with you again? _ ’ would be nothing short of humiliating.

Alex knew the answer, and thinking about it for longer than a few seconds made him feel like he was drowning.

He was numb by the time his father finished talking, and then Alex asked the only question left on his mind:

“What’s in it for you?”

His father sat back and crossed his arms and, even as a look of cold understanding crossed over his face, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You just show up out of nowhere, after years of not caring about me at all, and you expect me to believe that you just want to help me?” Alex demanded, his voice coming out surprisingly steady, even as he felt like the entire world was shaking. “What do you want from me?”

His father sighed, but then he said, “I need to borrow some money,” and Alex was laughing before he even finished the sentence, because some things never changed, and laughing was better than screaming.

“Of course you do,” he said once he recovered, and then he was pushing himself away from the table and déjà vu was washing over him as he said, “Fuck you,” and began to leave, but this time he didn’t make it a step away, before his father caught onto his arm, his grip firm and strong and holding Alex in place.

“Don’t act surprised or upset,” his father all but spat, and Alex pulled his wrist away, noting that it would probably bruise. “We both know that I’m a shit father, and that you’ll be better off without me. This is me offering you a way out- it’s me doing you a favor, and you should be grateful.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Last I checked, favors didn’t require pay.”

“You wouldn’t be paying me for it,” his father said, “You’d be returning the favor- that’s what family does. They help each other out.”

“Like you know anything about family,” Alex growled, and his father let out a sharp laugh at that.

“I know more than you, kid, and you’d do well to remember that,” he said, leaning in even closer and lowering his voice as he continued with, “Especially if you think the senator and his wife are your family. Once his campaign is over they’re going to drop you in a second. Like it or not, I’m offering you the best deal you’re ever going to come by.”

Alex knew what George and Martha would say to that. He could hear their voices in his mind, louder than his father’s, saying, ‘ _ we will never give up on you _ ,’ and ‘ _ we care about you, _ ’ and a million other things that Alex did his best to listen to. 

It took all of his energy and all of his strength and everything inside of him to focus on those words and their voices and to imagine their faces, smiling at him and looking proud and happy and kind, and Alex was still focusing on them when he heard his father push back his chair and stand up.

“I’ll be here next Monday. Bring the money and we won’t have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I need to level with everybody for a moment because like writing this literally broke my heart?
> 
> like, I decided to go in this direction because I wanted something Reynolds Pamphlet-y to happen in this story but like I can’t even handle reading stories where somebody cheats let alone writing one so I was like ‘okay this’ll be a fun way to go in a different direction’ but like
> 
> what the fuck my heart is breaking THERE IS NOTHING FUN ABOUT THIS ATM
> 
> (but like it'll get happier again soon i promise)
> 
> (also i can't believe this has over 400 kudos what the actual fuck my friends y'all are fantastic okay? <3)


	24. it's bad enough you've seen him once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex goes back to school, and peggy helps out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't think this chapter really needs a warning or anything but also, I just kind of wrote Alex feeling how I feel when my mental health goes to shit and if that's not something that you want to read then feel free to let me know in the comments and I'll summarize the chapter for you!

Alex’s father left without looking back, coffee in hand, and Alex didn’t move an inch.

He felt like he was caught in a storm, and he felt like even shifting in his seat would result in him being swept away, and he felt like he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to. He felt like he was never going to move again.

Of course, that wasn’t the case and, even with a million different feelings crushing his chest and his heart pounding through it all, making it almost impossible to breath, he had to go back to class, so he did.

Normally, Alex walked with purpose.

He took quick, short steps, and he didn’t waste time, and he got where he needed to be.

On the way back to school, he floated.

He heard the bell ring from a block away and knew he was late, but it didn’t sway him.

He heard his feet hit the sidewalk, and he saw the snow piling up around them, but it didn’t seem real at all.

He didn’t feel human. He felt like a cave that somebody had screamed into, now completely empty except for his father’s  words still echoing inside of him.

He didn’t focus on anything in particular, but it was all there, crowding his brain and weighing down on him more than the snow ever could. Words like ‘ _ family _ ’ and  _ ‘favor’ _ and a million others that now sounded wrong and cruel and taunting.

Words that he didn’t understand, and words that he didn’t want to.

There was confusion and uncertainty there too, but he’d grown used to those a long time ago, and he welcomed them back like old friends.

When he finally got back to school the halls were empty, but Ms. Marshall didn’t say a word when he slumped into class almost 20 minutes late and, in that moment, she was his favourite teacher.

Peggy, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes and moved closer to him. “Gone for another walk, Hamilton?” she asked, and the words rolled off him like he hadn’t heard them at all, but he did shrug.

“It’s nice out,” he muttered, and she snorted.

“It’s freezing,” she countered, and then, “You’re freezing,” and then, with something more like concern in her eyes, “Jesus, are you alright?”

“I’m tired,” he decided on, and added, “I don’t feel well,” because it wasn’t exactly a lie.

It did, however, turn out to be the wrong thing to say because, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Peggy’s hand was in the air. Ms. Marshall called on her with only a slight sigh, and Peggy said, “Alex isn’t feeling well. Can I take him to the nurse?” and the teacher studied him for a moment before she nodded and sent the two of them on their way, looking concerned while the class merely looked curious.

Alex wasn’t quite sure how he got from the seat to the door, but he realized what was happening about halfway down the hall, and then he spun on his heels and would have turned around entirely, if Peggy’s hand hadn’t stopped him.

“Wow, wow, wow, where do you think you’re going?” she asked, an eyebrow raised and a hip cocked out to the side, looking ready for a fight that Alex couldn’t give.

“Not to the nurses,” he said, and tried to pull away but, as he’d learned months ago, she was stronger than she looked. Alex swallowed and tried not to think of how his father had grabbed him the same way, less than an hour ago. “Please,” he tried and, while Peggy didn’t budge, she did soften her grip.

“We go to the nurse, she sees that you look like shit, she calls your parents, you go home. There’s no real doctor-ing involved, so if that’s the problem then you have nothing to be scared of, I swear.”

“I’m fine,” he tried, and she laughed, no humor in the sound at all.

“I’ve seen you fine before, and I’ve seen you not so fine-  this is a whole new level of not so fine, Alex.”

He let that wash over him, and he couldn’t deny that going home, curling up in bed, and hiding from the world sounded like a good option. “She’ll just send me home?”

“She might ask a few questions,” Peggy amended, and Alex stiffened but she continued with, “But probably not, and if she does I promise I’ll answer all of them, but come on, Alex, you’re starting to scare me here.”

At that, he nodded and let Peggy tug him along.

He was relieved to find that her assessment of the nurse had been right, and it only took a few muttered responses on Alex’s part and a few translations on Peggy’s part before the nurse was calling the Washington’s, and Alex was curled up on a hospital style bed, with his head resting against Peggy’s shoulder.

Unfortunately, while the nurse hadn’t had many questions, the same couldn’t be said for Peggy.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?”

There was a sick feeling in the bottom of Alex’s stomach telling him that, no matter what Peggy guessed, it wouldn’t be as bad as the reality of the situation, so he shrugged and muttered, “I saw my father,” and the he felt her freeze beside him.

“George?” she tried after a moment, and Alex shook his head. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed in agreement, and he really did feel a tiny bit better when Peggy tightened her grip around his shoulders, but he still said, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and vaguely noted the way her breath hitched.

“Alex, _what the_ _fuck_?” she asked again, and he probably should have expected that.

“I don’t really know.”

She paused, and then: “Do the Washington’s know?”

Alex shook his head. “You can’t tell anybody.”

“Alex,” she breathed again, and this time she almost sounded scared, and Alex hated that more than anything so he closed his eyes and focused on breathing.

Peggy was too quiet, the air around them was too loud, and Alex’s father didn’t care about him after all.

Before Alex could put that into words and get out a reply, the door swung open and the nurse walked in, with George on her heels.

Alex didn’t feel much of anything, but he did see the worry creasing George’s face, and he saw the way it fell away for half a second when he saw that Alex was physically fine, before it came back in full force only seconds later. Alex decided not to read into that, and he focused on what George was saying instead.

“You’re not feeling well?” he asked, and Alex knew how to reply to that. He shook his head, and George nodded. “I’ll take you home.”

George was steady and calm and he was  _ there _ , and all Alex could do was nod in response.

George nodded back and it was settled, but when Alex moved to stand, the man turned to Peggy. “Would you mind walking him to the car, Margaret? I’m going to talk to Nurse Campbell for a minute,” he said, and Alex couldn’t really bring himself to care, but the sinking feeling in his stomach was back and it didn’t really lessen when Peggy linked arms with him.

She nodded and said something along the lines of, “Come on then, Alex, let’s go,” and Alex let her lead him out of the room.

They were barely out of the office, ignoring the secretary’s glare that seemed less tense than usual, when Peggy turned on him.

“Alex, this is bad. You need to tell them,” she said, and then, “They can help.”

Even as the words were coming out of Peggy’s mouth, Alex knew that she was right, and he also knew that he wasn’t going to listen to her, despite the part of him that really, really wanted to.

Instead, he muttered, “I can handle it,” and tried to stand a up a bit straighter as he continued with, “You just can’t tell anybody, okay?”

If he’d looked at her face, Alex would have seen a slew of emotions playing across it, with uncertainty and worry taking the forefront. He knew that, so he didn’t look. Instead, he swallowed down even more of the guilt that was building up in him, and he let the numbness back in because, at the moment, it was the only thing he could handle.

It was draining and jarring and cold, but it was better than drowning.

When Peggy broke the silence, still sounding uncertain, and asked, “But why, Alex? Why are you keeping this a secret?” he knew the answer, and he knew it was an answer that she wouldn’t accept.

He couldn’t tell her that he knew he was doing the wrong thing and that he was going to do the wrong thing again and that, even if he could stop himself from doing it, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He couldn’t tell her that, even after a million disappointments, still reeling from the latest one, there was a tiny voice in Alex’s head screaming that his father had been right and that, with every second that passed, it outweighed the Washington’s voices more and more. He definitely couldn’t tell her that he’d grown used to being used a long, long time ago, but that, maybe, if he played along with it this time, he’d come out on top.

Even if he’d started to tell her the truth, he couldn’t tell her the whole thing, and then they were at George’s car and Peggy unlocked it with keys that Alex hadn’t realized she’d been handed, and he was sliding into the passenger seat, trying to avoid everything still playing out on her face.

“Because it’s not important,” he said, and then, “Nothing’s changed. He still doesn’t want me and I’m still happy with the Washington’s and I don’t want to ruin it, okay?” Peggy softened at that, but she also bit her lip and looked away, and Alex sighed. “You understand. You have to. I can’t ruin this.”

The guilt was back again, because Alex knew it was wrong of him to ask that of Peggy, and he knew it was wrong to manipulate her into keeping his secret, but whatever sense of self-preservation he possessed, had kicked in, and then it had taken over and, for once, Alex let it take over.

After a moment Peggy blinked a few times, quick and determined, and then she turned back to Alex. “Fine,” she said, not angry and not sad, but definitely not content either. “But Alex, you can’t see him again. It’s bad enough you’ve seen him once. You know that.”

Alex really, really didn’t have it in him to put up any more of a fight, and if he didn’t say anything then, technically, was he even really lying? 

He nodded, and Peggy breathed out a sigh that was far from relieved, but a tiny bit of tension left her posture and that was  _ something  _ at least, and then George was there, out of nowhere, and Peggy was saying goodbye and walking away.

Alex watched her go and he watched George climb into the seat beside him and turn the engine on, and he felt the first hints of heat coming through the vents, and he shivered, realizing how cold he actually was.

George noticed, and turned the heat up as high as it would go. “This’ll just take a second,” he said, and then, still not driving, “When was the last time you ate, Alex?”

Alex thought about the cereal he’d had for dinner the night before, and shrugged, burrowing deeper into his jacket.

“Would soup help?” George asked, and Alex shook his head. In that moment, moving a spoon from a bowl to his mouth, and then swallowing, and then doing it all over again seemed more difficult than running a marathon. George sighed, and then asked, “What can I do to help you?” and Alex thought about it before-

“Sleep,” he muttered, and then, “I just want to sleep,” and if George thought there was anything wrong with that, he didn’t say it.

Instead, he finally pulled out of the parking lot and said, “Alright, let’s just get you home,” and Alex closed his eyes to stop any stray tears from falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like idk what to say about this chapter other than I’m so sorry, and to tell you that the next chapter will definitely be a lot less painful, and it’ll involve alex actually talking to the washington’s, and that things aren’t going to get resolved yet, but that I think you’ll all be happy with the conversation that they have and I’ll try to post it as soon as possible?
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	25. i'm fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george and martha talk to alex, and alex tries his best to listen

Alex woke up, drenched in sweat and with his head pounding.

He realized, after a moment, that somebody was also knocking on his door, and then he moved to sit up. In doing so, his blankets fell away from his body and he realized that he was in his own bed and he let out a sigh of relief, even as the knocking continued.

After a moment, it was accompanied by Martha’s voice, saying, “Alex, are you awake?” and then, “I’m coming in,” and then the door opened, and light shone through, and Alex winced.

Upon seeing him sitting up, Martha smiled. “Morning, honey,” she said, and Alex blinked.

“Morning?”

“Technically it’s noon, but if you’re just waking up then I’d say that the sentiment applies,” she reasoned, and Alex blinked again.

“I slept-”

“Almost 24 hours.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Alex,” Martha chided, without her usual insistence behind the words, and Alex bit his lip, hard. Memories were coming back to him, and they were hitting him all over again, and he wished more than anything that he could go back to the few seconds after he’d woken up where he’d been blissfully ignorant to it all, but that wasn’t possible at all, so-

“I’m missing school,” he said, and then, “I need to go to school. I can’t miss two days- I’ve got work to do,” and Martha was shaking her head before he’d even finished the sentence.

“Your friends are taking notes for you, and George called the school this morning. They aren’t expecting you until tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’m feeling up to it  _ now _ ,” Alex shot back, while Martha didn’t budge.

“Humor me and take the day off anyways,” she said, somewhat dry but entirely firm, and Alex bit his lip as hard as he could. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he said, too quick, too loud, and too aggressive, and not entirely sure that he believed it at all, but- “I’m fine. I was just- tired or something, but I’m fine, okay?”

Martha fell silent and her face turned still, even as her eyes stayed trained on Alex’s face, studying him for a moment, before she nodded.

“Alright then,” she said, and Alex was about to ask if that meant he got to go back to school, when- “George is just making lunch, so if you’re fine you’ll have no problem joining us?”

Alex swallowed down a lump in his throat, and tried to think of a way out of it.

He was almost never alone with George and Martha- Laf was around as a buffer, or one of his friends was, or they were out doing something in public. He wasn’t scared of them and he wasn’t uncomfortable around them, but he also wasn’t entirely sure that he was ready for whatever conversation they wanted to have.

He had a million thoughts running through his mind and they were all weighing him down and, knowing what he knew and what he’d done and he was probably going to do, he wasn’t sure he could look them in the eye.

He’d stopped looking at them with resentment a long time ago, and he’d lost track of them number of times that they’d told him they were keeping him around no matter what, but now it was all clouded over with fresh memories of his father, and he still felt a tiny bit dazed from it all.

Still, Martha was looking at him pointedly, and his stomach was definitely empty and starting to hurt from it, so he nodded and said, “I’ll be down in a minute,” and Martha nodded as well, before she smiled, almost reassuringly, and then closed the door behind her.

The minute she was gone, Alex was alone with his thoughts and with his memories of the past 48 hours, and he almost regretted having driven her out of the room.

There was a glass of water sitting on his nightstand, so he grabbed it and drained it in one go, before he noticed that somebody had plugged his phone into the charger, and that it was lighting up with unread messages.

Just about all of his friends had sent him something, there was a section of the group chat that had been dedicated to #findalex2k16, and then there were the messages from John. 

_ ‘hey i hear you’re not feeling well?’ _

_ ‘peggy said you went home?’ _

_ ‘biology was shit without you but i took decent notes for once so you’ll be fine there’ _

_ ‘hey so i mean laf says you’re alive but would you mind texting me to confirm that?’ _

_ ‘literally just say anything?’ _

_ ‘though like if you actually just say the word ‘anything’ i might break up with you’ _

_ ‘ok that was a bad joke but we both know i’m not breaking up with you’ _

_ ‘laf says you’re asleep so i’ll leave you alone but just let me know you’re alive when you get the chance, okay?’ _

_ ‘<3’ _

There were more, and they were all along that vein, and they all made Alex’s heart ache. 

He tried to think of an appropriate reply, but there was something bigger on his mind and a feeling of worry that he couldn’t quite shake, so he finally gave in to it and texted Peggy,  _ ‘Thank you for everything _ ,’ and then, ‘ _ But please, don’t tell Laf.’ _

A reply came seconds later reading,  _ ‘i promised, didn’t i? _ ’ and then, ‘ _ even if i’m not happy about it _ ,’ and then, ‘ _ you should tell g&m _ ,’ and then, ‘ _ also are you okay???’ _

Somehow that question seemed impossible to answer, so Alex elected to ignore it and focus on the other immediate problem at hand, which was the Washington’s.

Martha hadn’t seemed angry at him, which was a good thing.

It meant that she probably didn’t know about his father, or about anything else that he’d done over the past few days, and it probably meant that Alex wasn’t in trouble.

Still, she hadn’t looked particularly happy, and she wasn’t letting Alex go back to school, and neither her or George were at work, and that definitely wasn’t a good sign.

He moved past Martha and thought of George.

George, who’d had no reason to be understanding about anything, but who had been anyways. George, who’d picked him up from school, and who hadn’t demanded an explanation, and who’d given Alex what he’d needed without a second thought. George, who was a better person than Alex’s father would ever be.

But Alex shook that thought away the second it hit him, because it wasn’t fair at all.

George wasn’t his father, and the Washington’s weren’t his family, and they didn’t know anything about Alex’s life at all.

Alex thought about that and he clung to it. He clung to his father’s voice saying, ‘ _ you’re being a bit naïve, _ ’ and he clung to all of the doubt and the anger inside of him, because he decided in that moment that it was better than being numb, and almost anything in the world was better than the cloud from yesterday that he still felt creeping around the edges of his mind.

He wore it all like armor, and he walked into the kitchen ready for a fight, trying not to remember the first time he’d done so, and just how many things had changed since then.

When he finally did get to the kitchen, he felt like he’d shown up to a picnic ready for a war, completely out of place but ready for a fight.

George was finishing up assembling sandwiches that looked suspiciously like peanut butter and jelly, Martha was leaning against the counter beside him, and they both stopped talking when he walked in.

George was the first to smile, and then he asked, “Sleep well?”

Alex had subconsciously prepared himself for the world to end, so he was surprised by just how normal everything seemed, and all he got out was a rough, “Fine.”

George continued with, “It’s good to see you back on your feet,” and Alex nodded at that, before-

“Yeah, I was just tired, you know? I probably caught a flu or something- I’ve never been good at being sick so sleeping through it was probably best, because I’m feeling a lot better now  and I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on, so yeah- it was all nothing, really.”

George had looked surprised at the start of Alex’s rant, but he ended it looking thoroughly unimpressed, though he nodded anyways. “Mind taking these to the table?” was all he asked, and Alex accepted three plates and a pile of utensils, grateful for a way out.

Surprisingly enough, the meal passed without much actual discussion.

Alex was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to say anything, and Martha kept encouraging him to eat more, and George watched it all with an unreadable expression that made Alex’s stomach churn, but he was fine.

It was all fine.

He had to be fine, because if he wasn’t fine then everything became too much, and when it became too much he panicked, and he couldn’t panic again.

Still, when he finished eating and started to excuse himself from the table and the Washington’s exchanged a look before George said, “Sit for a minute, would you, Alex? We should talk,” he came pretty damn close to it.

He felt his heart speed up, and he clenched his hands in his lap, and he still kept telling himself that he was fine, but he also heard his father’s voice in the back of his mind saying, ‘ _ I’m offering you the best deal you’re ever going to come by,’’ _ and he had no idea who to listen to.

Luckily, Martha made that decision for him when she interrupted his thoughts and said, “Alex, it’s nothing bad- you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Alex swallowed down a bitter laugh at that, but nodded in relief. “Right- uh, yeah,” he said, and Martha smiled slightly.

“Unless there’s anything we should know?” she asked, and Alex was almost positive that she was teasing him, so he laughed as well.

He was fine.

George was smiling as well, but it gave away to something softer that almost looked nervous, and Alex started fiddling with his fork, to distract himself from it.

“Alex,” George finally started, his voice sounding more like a sigh than anything, “Martha and I want you to know that you can come to us with anything.”

Alex tried to imagine how disappointed they’d be- how  _ hurt  _ they’d be- if he told them about his father, and about what he was thinking of doing, and he felt his posture stiffen unintentionally. Still, he stuttered out an, “I know that,” looking at the clock on the wall behind George instead of the man himself.

“I’m glad to hear that,” George said lightly and short, and then, “But there are things that you don’t seem willing to share with us, and-”

“If this is about yesterday, I told you I’m fine,” Alex interrupted, completely unsure of where the conversation was going, but positive that he didn’t want to know anyways. “I was tired, and I slept, and now I’m fine. It’s not even a problem, so-”

George’s jaw tensed there, and it was Martha who spoke after Alex cut himself off.

“Honey, we’re not the only ones who’re concerned about you.”

“If it’s something that Lafayette said, he doesn't know what he’s talking about,” Alex snapped, with a bite in his voice that he was glad Laf wasn’t there to hear.

“Gilbert hasn’t said anything,” Martha said mildly, and then, “We got a call from one of your teachers yesterday- George talked to her for quite a while. The school nurse, as well.”

Alex’s brow furrowed and he turned to George, who looked tired.

“Ms. Marshall?” George asked, and then, “She only had good things to say about you.”

That was nice and it did sound like Ms. Marshall, but Alex didn’t quite buy it. “And is that all she said?” he asked, and Martha looked away at that, while George pursed his lips.

“She also had a few concerns,” he admitted, and that sounded more accurate. After all, Alex had fallen asleep in her class twice in the past week alone and, when he wasn’t sleeping, he was bickering with Peggy in the back. With that in mind, he was able to prepare his defense, and he was ready when George said, “She seems to think that you aren’t getting enough sleep, and after yesterday she was even more worried.”

“Oh?” Alex tried, and George studied him for a moment before continuing with-

“Apparently you have a tendency to fall asleep in class and, while your grades are outstanding, she’s having trouble ignoring it,” George said, patient as ever, and Alex swallowed the lump in his throat that seemed to have become a constant in his life. “Which, I might add, I’m glad about- if you’re not sleeping, it’s something that we need to talk about, Alex.”

“We really don’t,” Alex said quickly, deflecting, and then, “I mean, it’s not even a problem- like,  I’ve never slept very much and I’ve made it this far and I’m fine, I swear.”

Martha raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, you’ve never slept much?” she asked, concern mixing with curiosity, and Alex shrugged.

“It just seems like a waste of time, you know? Like there are a million other things I could be doing or working on and I’m not all that great at sleeping anyways- like, I wake up every few hours and I feel gross if I sleep for too long and I just really, really don’t like wasting time, so I mostly just don’t bother with it- sleep, I mean.”

Martha looked unimpressed with the explanation, but it was George who spoke. “And falling asleep in class  _ isn’t  _ a waste of time?” he asked, and Alex was pretty sure he heard something close to disapproval in his voice.

“If we actually learned anything it would be, but as it is I’d say it’s actually the most productive way to spend the period,” he snapped, defensiveness being his ever present default setting, and both of the Washington’s frowned.

“You’re not sleeping at night, then?” Martha asked after a few moments of silence, apparently opting to ignore his outburst, and Alex shrugged again.

“I guess,” he muttered, and Martha nodded at that.

“Have you ever talked to anybody about it?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

That at least got a small smile out of the woman, before she shook her head. “You are,” she agreed, and then, “But what I meant to ask was, have you ever talked to a professional about it? Therapy of any sort?”

Alex froze. “I don’t need therapy,” he said, quick and sharp and incredibly unimpressed with the implication of the question, even as Martha sighed and George sat up a bit straighter, raising an eyebrow.

“Is there a reason you’re so against the suggestion?” he asked, and Alex barely hesitated before-

“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me,” he snapped, and George’s brow furrowed.

“I didn’t realize we’d implied that there was,” he said, and then, “I’ve been seeing the same psychologist for the past five years, and Aaron sees one as well. Despite the stigma surrounding it, you’d be surprised how common it is.”

Alex narrowed his eyes and considered that and, honestly, he knew that George was right, but there was also more than a little bit of doubt eating away at him that he didn’t quite understand, so he was grateful when Martha jumped in.

“It’s something to think about, Alex,” she said, and then, “We both want what’s best for you and, after yesterday, we think this could help a lot more than either of us can by ourselves.”

Alex bit his lip and considered that as well, and then asked, “I just have to think about it?”

At that, he was pretty sure that Martha started to look guilty. “I’ve called in some favors with some people I know from work,” she admitted, like she was choosing each word carefully, “And we’ve made you an appointment with one of the best people in the city. Of course, if you don’t like her or don’t feel comfortable at all, we can reevaluate the situation and look for somebody else, but we would both appreciate it if you gave it a try.”

“So I really don’t have a say in this?” Alex asked and, when Martha flinched, George took over.

“Even if you can’t see it now, this is for the best,” he said, firm and unmoving, and Alex considered telling them both to fuck off, before he thought better of it.

Considering everything he’d done in the past few days, bullshitting his way through a few appointments with a shrink was the least of his worries, and it was definitely something that he could handle. 

Still, he didn’t like choices being taken away from him, so he pouted, ignoring how petulant it made him feel and, figuring that the conversation was over, he pushed himself away from the table, but-

“One more thing, Alex,” George said, and Alex sat down, wary. “Ms. Marshall also mentioned that you seem to have trouble seeing the board in class?”

Alex had noticed that as well but, like his lack of sleep, it was nothing knew. “I’m good as long as I squint and tilt my head a bit, and most of the time I just take notes off of what the teachers say, so it’s really not a problem,” he explained, and the look on Martha’s face turned into one that missed pity and landed on sadness, and George’s read similar.

“Have you had your eyes tested recently?” he asked, and Alex didn’t have the heart to tell them that he’d never had his eyes tested at all, so he just shook his head. “Well, that’s easy enough to solve- I’ll make you an appointment for next week.”

Alex hesitated for half a second, and Martha jumped in.

“The appointment won’t take longer than 20 minutes- they just get you to look through a few things, and read a few signs- nothing too huge,” she explained, which didn’t put Alex at ease at all, because-

“Won’t that all be kind of… expensive?”

George blinked and Martha did too, and they shared a look before George spoke.

“You need glasses, Alex. It’s not a problem, and it’s not money that we mind spending.”

“As it turns out,” Martha jumped in, with a wry smile but soft eyes, “We’ve actually grown to like you quite a bit over the past few months. There aren’t many things that we wouldn’t be willing to do for you. We really do care about you, Alexander.”

The lump in Alex’s throat was back and it was bigger than ever, as he stuttered out the words, “I- yeah, I know,” with as much conviction as he could manage because, in that moment, he realized that it was true.

He knew that the Washington’s cared about him and he knew they were on his side, and maybe that was the reason why he was suddenly hit with an overwhelming amount of guilt.

If George and Martha noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

Instead, they started making plans, and talking about the optometry appointment, and mentioning that George was going out of town for his campaign, and that exams were coming up at school, and Alex couldn’t remember feeling more involved, or cared about, or content.

Because of that, when he got back up to his room he found himself pacing the floor, unable to sit still and unable to think straight.

He realized now that there was no point in comparing the Washington’s to his father because, at the end of the day, they’d done more for him than his father ever had. He knew that, but his father was still his father and, for some reason, that seemed important.

His father was his family, and maybe Alex didn’t really know what family was at all, but he knew that it was important. He knew that people loved their family unconditionally, and he knew that family was there for you when you needed them, and he knew that you were supposed to put your family first.

His father had never done any of that for him, but the Washington’s had, and that alone made Alex’s heart swell.

They had no reason to care about him, or worry about him, or take care of him, but they did, time and time again, and they’d never asked for anything in return. Instead, George and Martha kept surprising him and overwhelming him with their kindness, to the point where it hurt.

Alex didn’t know what any of that meant at all, but he knew what he wanted it to mean.

It was with that in mind, that he remembered the letter under his bed and the address written on it, clear and concise and not too far away, and he realized what he needed to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> urghhhhhhhhhhhh like okay my head's been feeling really foggy and cloudy and it makes it really hard to write so i wrote this like 3 different times before i settled on this version but i might make some changes tomorrow and if i do i'll leave a note at the beginning of the next chapter letting you know, but as of right now, i'm mostly happy with this?
> 
> <3


	26. tuesday night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhh alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my computer broke down literally as soon as i posted the last chapter, so i had to find money to buy a new one and then buy a new one, and then i got a sick and felt like an actual dead person for a few days, but i woke up in the middle of the night yesterday and i finalllllly felt like writing again, and i'm not entirely in love with this chapter but here you go anyways!

Alex spent the rest of the afternoon pacing and writing and planning, until there was nothing left for him to do but think.

Because of that, he was relieved when Laf finally got home from school.

Thoughts of his father and the Washington’s, and his past and his future, and what he was planning on doing about it all were all blurring together in his mind, and it was enough to make him dizzy.

Luckily, he was pulled out of those thoughts, first by the front door banging open and a rush of footsteps, and again by the sound of Martha hushing Laf and saying something along the lines of ‘ _ at least consider letting him rest, _ ’ and one final time, when he heard the footsteps again, this time thumping on the stairs, and then there was a knock on his door and then his door was opening, and then Laf was standing there, glaring.

Alex had pushed aside what he was working on the second he’d heard the front door opening, and when he’d heard the footsteps on the stairs he’d turned in his desk chair, and when the door opened, he stared back.

He wasn’t sure what to say to Laf and he wasn’t sure what Laf was going to say, so when the first words out of the other boy’s mouth were, “I told them,” all Alex could do was blink.

And then his mind started working a mile a minute again, because Peggy had promised that she wouldn’t tell Laf anything, but if she’d broken that promise then Laf would almost certainly tell the Washington’s about everything, and then everything would be over.

But then Laf kept talking, and the next thing he said was, “I told them about Sunday night- you’re, well- everything,” and Alex was too relieved to be mad, even when Laf kept going, with, “I was worried, _ mon ami _ \- Peggy was too, and John is,  _ how you say _ , beside himself, and you were just sleeping and you never sleep, so-”

“It’s fine, Laf,” Alex interrupted him, speaking for the first time, and pleased to find that his voice was steady and sure and, most of all, that he actually believed what he was saying. Laf didn’t look convinced, so he continued. “I- if it were you, I would have told them.”

Laf narrowed his eyes and studied Alex’s face for several moments, before he asked, “You are not angry?” and Alex just shook his head.

“I’m really not,” he said, and then, curious and a tiny bit confused, “But Martha said you didn’t say anything?”

Laf at least looked a tiny bit guilty then. “I spoke to her in confidence, but I do not like lying to you,” he explained, finishing with a shrug.

Alex thought about the lies that he was digging himself into, but he told himself that it was more complicated than that, and he was pretty sure that he believed it, so he brushed aside his own guilt and nodded.

There didn’t seem to be much else to say, but that didn’t stop Laf from pushing all the way into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him, as he threw himself into Alex’s bed. Alex, more than used to this, only paused to grab his computer, before he joined him.

If there was something close to concern in Laf’s smile, or if there seemed to be something unsaid hanging in the air, or if Alex had to bite his lip and hug his legs to his chest to keep himself from shaking, then neither of them said anything.

Instead, Alex sat the computer on the bed between them and turned on Parks and Rec where they’d left it off, and they stayed there until dinner.

Dinner itself was uneventful, though Alex couldn’t help but notice that George and Martha both seemed tired. 

Still, they asked Laf about school and told Alex that he was free to go back the next day, and it was all beautifully normal. It was the sort of normalcy that Alex craved and that he wanted and that he needed, and it only solidified the fact that his plan was a good idea. 

Because of that, well past midnight, when Alex was sure that everybody was asleep Alex got to work.

Alex left his room quietly and, remembering Laf’s entrance earlier that day, he took his time on the stairs. The lights were out and he was positive that everybody was asleep, but he didn’t need any squeaky floor boards or heavy footsteps waking them.

Once he got to the bottom of the stairs, his attention turned to the front door.

He walked towards it, slow and light, and then his hand was on the lock and he clicked it open as quietly as possible. It still managed to sound like a bomb going off, and the turn of the doorknob that followed sounded like the loudest thing in the world, and Alex was sure that actually swinging the door open was going to wake the entire world, but then he was stepping outside and there were no signs that he’d been heard, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Closing it was also an affair, but once that was done Alex could finally breathe freely, and the air was fresh and crisp and freezing cold, but he couldn’t go back for a scarf because he had a job to do.

He’d spent hours planning his route and thinking it all out, so he headed for the closest bus stop, and thanked every god he knew that the buses actually ran as late as they did.

Of course, late buses meant relatively terrifying buses, and Alex was forced to endure the drivers leer and the knowledge that the couple in the back were almost definitely hooking up.

Luckily, the ride was over almost as soon as it started, and then Alex was pulling the string and getting off the bus, and then he was in a neighbourhood that he’d never seen before, but that felt strangely familiar all the same.

The street lights flickered and cast stale, fluorescent light over the whole thing, and there were banged up cars parked on the street, and a few houses still had lights on, but most didn’t. 

In the time he’d been living with the Washington’s, Alex had grown used to a standard of life that he’d only ever dreamed of before. That being said, the neighbourhood he was currently in was far closer to what he was used to. He’d lived in similar ones in countless cities and with countless families, and he hated how much it felt like home.

He hated that somewhere his father lived felt like home.

Still, he brushed that thought aside because it wasn’t doing him any good at all, and he headed for the 24/7 corner store that google maps had assured him existed.

He offered the man behind the counter a half smile, and he didn’t get anything in return until the man realized that Alex was headed for the ATM, at which point he said, “That’s for customers only,” and Alex back tracked to the cash register.

He bought a pack of gum because he wasn’t looking for a fight, and then doubled back to the ATM, and fed it his card. 

He hadn’t actually checked his bank account since Christmas, when he’d bought the Washington’s presents. Since then, he hadn’t needed to spend any money. Because of that, he’d saved up more than he’d ever expected, and his throat dried just thinking about it.

Still, he took out $300 and ignored the employer's eyes that he felt burning into his back, and then he was back on the street, pulling his backpack across his chest as he went.

The envelope was where he’d left it, only slightly worse for the wear, and Alex willed himself not to think as he stuffed the money into it, and then sealed it.

Half a block later, and he was stopped in front of a house, and the house was practically begging him to run in the other direction.

The bricks were painted white but most of the paint was chipping, and the tree in the front yard was sagging under the weight of snow, and the snow on the ground was muddy and brown. It was small, but it was also bigger than a lot of places Alex had lived, and also quite a bit bigger than Alex had expected.

For a moment, Alex found himself wondering why his father really needed money, but he shook that thought from his mind, because it was none of his business and dwelling on it wasn’t going to do him any good.

Still, that brought to mind the fact that Alex’s father was almost definitely inside, sleeping, and that, if he wanted to, Alex could bang on the door until he answered, but he had no idea what he would do after that or what he even wanted to say to the man who'd let him down time and time again, because he felt a lot of things, but anger was missing from it all.

And then, for a moment, he had no idea why he was there to begin with, until he remembered the envelope in his hand and the money inside and the message he’d written on it, and a cold sort of resolve fell over him.

Because of that, he only checked the address written on the front door once more time, before he sighed and willed his feet to start moving.

They were practically frozen in their boots by that point, but the rest of Alex’s body was numb from the cold as well, so he barely noticed.

Instead, he let his feet carry him to the front door, and then he placed the envelope on the welcome mat, and then he shook his head and moved it to the mailbox, and then he shook his head again and decided that the welcome mat was the best place for it after all.

The words, ‘ _ Never contact me again, _ ’ were written on the white paper in heavy black marker, and Alex tried not to think about the contrast between it and the ‘ _ Welcome home, _ ’ that had been written on the mat, as he turned and walked away.

The words ' _bring me the money and we won't have a problem'_ rang in his head the whole time, and he told himself that they were true and that he'd done the right thing, and he started to shiver because it really was freezing outside.

He felt a bit tired and a kind of bitter, but mostly just relieved.

Because of that, when he finally got back to the Washington’s, he slid back inside and crawled into bed, and had no trouble sleeping through the rest of the night, knowing that he'd helped his old family as best as he could, and that he was now safe with his new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes instead of singing 'he's alexander hamilton' i sing 'he's bad decisions hamilton' and i think that pretty much sums up this chapter
> 
> next chapter will be alex chilling with his friends at school because that boy deserves something vaguely light hearted


	27. a good day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sweet, sweet alex finally has a good day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just got tired of writing angst, so enjoy!
> 
> (also what the fuck this has 500 kudos ??? y'all are wonderful and your comments and kudos give me life <3)

Alex went to school the next morning feeling better than he’d felt in a long time, and most of that was because it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Of course, the fact that his boyfriend met him at his locker with coffee in hand didn’t hurt either and, while Alex had a tendency to stray away from public displays of affection, today he met John with a kiss. It was light and chaste and barely lasted a second, but John was beaming by the time he pulled back.

“I’ll bring you coffee more often, then,” he said, handing the paper cup to a smiling Alex, and ignoring the disgusted noises that a nearly forgotten Lafayette was making in the background.

“Do that, and you’ll never get rid of me,” Alex said, and John’s grin only widened.

“In that case, maybe I should go get you another one right now,” he teased, and Alex knew he was blushing because his cheeks were burning, but they also hurt from smiling and it all felt nice and good and simple, to the point where he wasn’t bothered at all when Laf groaned and flung himself between the couple.

“I do not get coffee and proclamations of eternal love?” he whined and, while Alex sputtered slightly over the word ‘ _ love, _ ’ John took it all in stride, rolling his eyes.

“Isn’t that what Herc and Pegs are for?” he asked, and this time Laf rolled his eyes.

“Peggy says that coffee makes me too excitable, and Hercules thinks it will stunt my growth.”

Alex tilted his head and narrowed his eyes and said, “You’re already taller than both of them,” at the same time as John said, “You do get kind of jumpy when you drink too much of it,” and it earned John a glare, while Alex got pulled into a sidelong hug.

“This is why you are my favourite,” he said, a bit too petty and a touch too dramatic to be sincere, but Alex smiled anyways, even as Laf continued, with, “ _ Mon petite lion _ \- always fighting for me, even when my closest friends betray me.”

Alex had no problem accepting the compliment, while John raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you sure that’s what lions do?” 

Laf scoffed. “You do not speak French, Laurens. You have no idea if that is even what I said.”

Alex snorted, while John sighed and said, “Ah, yes, because you have to be completely and entirely fluent in French to understand that ‘ _ lee-yon _ ’ means lion,” and the scandalized noise that Laf made only caused Alex to laugh again, both at his boyfriend's exaggerated accent, and at Laf’s genuine offense.

“ _ Mon ami, you must leave this imbecile immediately, for your good and for mine, I beg of you _ ,” Laf said, completely in French this time, and John only seemed mildly irritated, while Alex smiled.

“ _ I don’t know _ ,” he said, and this time John almost looked affronted at the French, “ _ I kind of like him _ .”

“ _ That makes one of us _ ,” Laf said, slightly dark but it still got a laugh from Alex, before the warning bell rang, startling them out of their conversation, and Laf started to back away. “ _ Good bye, mon petite lion _ ,” he said with a wave to Alex and a significantly less polite gesture towards John, and then he was gone and Alex was pulling away from his boyfriend to go to class as well, but John stopped him with a light tug on his arm, and Alex frowned.

“I’ll walk you,” John said, answering the question before Alex voiced it, and that got a small smile out of Alex before John continued with, “I- uh, I was really worried about you yesterday and Monday, you know,” and Alex almost stopped in his tracks.

But they were in the middle of a hall that was filled with students trying to get to class and he didn’t really feel like being trampled by them, so he swallowed and kept moving, tensing slightly in his spot tucked under John’s arm. “I’m sorry,” Alex muttered eventually, and he felt John stiffen at that, before he pulled him closer.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything- That’s not what- I just wanted you to know that I care about you,” John explained,  and Alex bit his lip as he continued with, “I really do like you a lot, Ham- Alex. And you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Alex nodded against John’s shoulder, and then realized that they were outside of his classroom, so he stopped and pulled them to the side of the hall, and turned so that he was looking up at John. 

For a second he considered telling John where he’d been the night before and what he’d done and why he’d panicked to begin with, but he decided against it in the end.

Instead, he took a deep breath and willed the right words to come to him and, even before he knew what he was going to say he started talking, surprising himself with how accurate it turned out to be.

“I know,” he said, and then, “I just get lost in my head sometimes and the only thing that ever really helps is getting work done and writing because there’s just so much in my head sometimes and it gets so, so loud, and then I can’t think and I just have to keep going and keep writing because some of it’s junk I’m sure but some of it’s really good too, I think, but nobody’s ever put up with me talking about it before because I get started and I just keep going and it’s annoying, and I know that, but if I get it down on paper then at least if something happens to me it’ll all be there, you know? There’ll be something left even if nobody remembers me.”

Alex had spent most of his speech fiddling with a button on John’s shirt, but once he stopped talking he spared a look back at John’s face, and he didn’t even have a chance to blink before John was kissing him, long and slow and gentler than Alex had thought possible, and they didn’t stop until a cleared throat pulled them apart, and-

“Mr. Hamilton, would you care to join us?”

Alex knew his face was bright red by that point and the space between John’s freckles was pinker than usual as well, and Alex pulled away with a small smile but not another word, as he rushed past his teacher. He was pretty sure he heard John laugh behind him, but he didn’t spare a look back until he was in his seat, and then Maria and Eliza were teasing him mercilessly.

Still, when he checked his phone a message was waiting for him that read, ‘ _ if it wasn’t clear before, you should know that i really like listening to you talk, and that even if you disappeared tomorrow and were never seen again, i’d always remember you, _ ’ and his face was red all over again, this time accompanied by the most cliché butterflies of all time taking up residence in his stomach.

Other than that, though, his first class was uneventful and so was the second one, except for the fact that his teacher decided that they needed a change, and forced Angelica to work with Thomas Jefferson, while Alex was stuck with Thomas’ quiet, yet still probably terrible friend, James Madison.

Of course, Alex had never actually talked to James before, so he was just assuming that the other boy was terrible by association, and he really wasn’t planning on changing that opinion, despite learning that they worked relatively well together, and actually shared similar views on the majority of the constitution. Still, James was friends with Thomas, so Alex only just tolerated him, even if they both had to hold back laughter when Angelica practically screamed the definition of feminism at Thomas for the hundredth time.

And then it was lunch, and Alex brushed off his friends’ concerned questions and comments and it only took a few minutes before they were back to talking about a million different things, none of which Alex particularly understood or paid attention to.

It was only on their way to history, that Peggy’s smile fell away and Alex caught it immediately because, really, he’d seen it coming from a mile away.

Still, when Peggy cleared her throat and said, “I’m still worried about you, you know,” Alex had to bite his lip to keep himself from snapping at her, because he was happy, and everything was fine now, and there wasn’t anything left to talk about.

Instead of saying that, he took a deep breath and then let it out, and then continued when he felt like he could give her the answer she deserved. “It’s fine,” he said, and then, “I’m fine- I took care of everything and I talked to the Washington’s, and there’s nothing left for you to worry about.”

“You told them about your father?”

“I took care of it,” he repeated, and Peggy raised her eyebrows at that.

“What are you, the mafia? Are you trying to tell me that you killed him?”

Alex didn’t laugh, but he smiled slightly even if it felt like it was too soon to joke about. “I told him to leave me alone.”

“And you really think that’ll be enough?”

Something inside of Alex sunk when he said, “It will be. He- he still doesn’t care about me, so,” but he shrugged off Peggy’s hand on his shoulder, and then the sympathetic look on her face, and he didn’t give her a chance to speak before he said, “It’s fine- I don’t need him anyways, so I don’t even care, you know?”

He expected that anybody else’s face would have clouded with disbelief, but Peggy only nodded in understanding, and said, “You definitely don’t need him,” and then, “The Washington’s already consider you family, and that’s not going to change,” and then, “You say it a lot but I don’t think you really believe it, but you really are going to be fine, Hamilton,” and then she elbowed him and turned into their classroom, and it gave Alex a chance to clear his throat before he followed her.

Much to Alex’s disbelief and Peggy’s delight, they spent the class playing jeopardy to review what they’d learned throughout the semester and, despite the fact that Alex could think of about a million better things he could be doing with his time, he was more than pleased when he and Peggy were placed on the same team and subsequently won the whole thing.

Biology followed and, as it almost always happened, the teacher turned a movie on and left it at that.

This one was about the ocean and the animals that lived at the bottom of it, and it seemed like the kind of thing that John would love, so Alex was surprised when the other boy nudged him five minutes in, and nodded towards his notebook where he’d set up a game of hangman.

Before he guessed a letter, Alex raised an eyebrow and nodded his head towards the screen, at which point John rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“I’ve seen this documentary at least five times,” he explained in a hushed voice, like it was a reasonable thing to have done, and Alex had to hold back a laugh.

“I can’t believe you think I’m the nerd in this relationship,” he muttered, and that earned him a kick under the table.

“Just guess a damn letter, Ham.”

“Or what?” Alex asked, amused, “You’re going to attack me with your knowledge of marine life? I’m terrified.”

“Yes,” John said, sarcastic but fighting off a smile, “That’s what I’ll use. The fact that I’ve been playing very physical sports for years and have fought more than a few people while playing those sports is just backup.”

Alex couldn’t help but grin at that, and he poked one of John’s biceps for good measure. “You’re a teddy bear.”

John rolled his eyes, but seemed to give up the front he was putting on, and opted to wink instead. “Only around you, babe,” he said, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the pet name, because even if it was a joke, it was the first time John had used one, and maybe- just maybe- it was kind of hot.

But they were in class and Alex wanted to hold onto at least a bit of his pride, so he rolled his eyes as well and set to work picking out a letter.

As usual, he won over and over again, and John pretended to be put out, but really just focused his energy on thinking up the most intricately ridiculous words and phrases that came to mind, and by the end of it Alex was sure they were going to get kicked out of class for laughing, but he also couldn’t bring himself to care.

That night George and Martha didn’t make it home for dinner, and Laf was on a date with Peggy and Herc, and it left Alex in the house alone and, for once, he didn’t mind being alone. He was riding off his high from having such a good day, and he was pretty sure that not many things could bring him down, and it felt absurd but in the best way possible, so he decided to treat himself, and watch TV in the background while he did his homework.

He was only half paying attention to the screen, with most of his energy focused on trying to understand the notes Angelica had taken for him in Politics, but when he heard George’s name mentioned, he looked up immediately, and distaste filled him when he realized that it was an attack ad, sponsored by one of the millions of corporations that President George King owned.

In whole, Alex wasn’t particularly impressed by the ad. It brought up points that were so outdated they were laughable, and just barely skirted around being overtly racist, and could probably have been put together better if it had been made by a two year old.

Still, it grated at Alex’s mind and he glared at the screen, and practically jumped out of his skin when he heard somebody chuckle behind him and spun around to see George, standing in the room that had grown darker than Alex realized when the sun went down.

“Sorry, sorry,” George said, but he sounded more amused than anything, and he nodded towards the television after a moment, and continued with, “I have to say, I’m more offended by the low quality of that ad than I am by what they actually say in it- King’s got billions of dollars sitting around, and that’s all I was worth?”

Alex let out a short laugh and said, “It just means he’ll be even more surprised when you beat him,” and that got him a smile from George, though it was also accompanied by a look that Alex had to study to understand.

Luckily, George explained it after a moment when he said, almost as a warning, “I haven’t won anything yet.”

Alex just rolled his eyes and said, “You will soon enough,” and that got another chuckle out of George, who also shook his head, and took the conversation in a completely different direction, with-

“Not to sound like an old sentimental sap, Alexander, but a few months ago you would have been yelling right back at the television if that ad had come on. You’ve grown a lot since then, and I’m proud of you, s-”

And then George cut himself off, like he always did when he was about to use  _ that _ word, but this time it only made Alex realize how ridiculous he was being, and it made him realize that maybe he didn’t mind being called somebody’s son, but he’d also never been the best at talking about his feelings and no amount of pride on George’s part would change that, so Alex just shrugged and turned back to the TV and muttered something along the lines of, “It’s fine if you- just- I don’t care what you call me- or- anything- you know,” and he wasn’t looking at George but he was pretty sure the man went still, because the quiet suddenly got very loud.

Alex froze as well, sure that he’d messed something up, but then he heard George clear his throat and this time he said the full thing- this time he said, “I’m proud of you, son,” and Alex thought the world might collapse around them, but he was almost positive that it was still spinning, so he nodded his head and a few moments after that George said, “I’m going to turn in- goodnight, Alexander,” and then there were footsteps and Alex was alone again and, once again, he was surprised to find that he was fine with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i were a nicer person i’d re-write the epilogue i’ve already written and end this story now, but i’ve got so many more plans for it that i really, really want to write, but it’ll probably all be over in about 10 chapters, and if you stick with me i promise that Alex will get the happy ending that he deserves!
> 
> (and not to spoil my own story but the next chapter involves Alex coming out to the Washington’s and you don’t understand how excited i am to write it because i’ve been planning it in my head for weeks and it’s been dying to get out, and i promise it’ll be a happy chapter as well!)
> 
> (also i run on validation and comments keep me going so if you liked this, let me know? <3)


	28. out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex and john make out, almost get caught, and then alex comes out to the washington's!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how high school works in america but at my old high school up in canada first semester was sept. to the end of january and then there was a week of exams, and then second semester started and went until the summer, so i've decided that these kids go to a school where it works the same way just as an fyi
> 
> also sex is talked about in this chapter but not had and it's also not going to be had in this story at all because these are very emotional children we're dealing with

Soon enough, classes winded down and then came to an end altogether, and then exam time started and everybody was just a little bit more stressed than usual. 

Of course, Hercules and Angelica were the only seniors in their group, which meant that their grades mattered the most, which meant that they were under the most pressure, but somehow Alex managed to give them a run for their money.

He’d always done well in school and a lot of that came from natural talent, but a lot of it also came from the fact that he worked hard for the grades he got, and he didn’t let anything stand in his way, and he didn’t let anything distract him.

Evidently, that had been before John Laurens came into his life.

It was the night before their biology exam and John had invited himself over to prepare for it, and when Martha suggested that they study in Alex’s room until dinner was ready, John had been ridiculously quick to agree with the suggestion.

Of course, Alex hadn’t cleaned his room in at least a week and it was a bit of a mess, but John didn’t seem to mind at all- he just took it in, said, “Not bad, Ham,” and then helped himself onto the bed.

For his part, Alex knew where it was going and, despite the fact that he had studying to do, he found that he didn’t entirely mind the distraction, because he’d been focused on his work almost constantly for the past week, and he decided that he needed a break. He also hadn’t seen much of John because of his studying and he was definitely ready for the exam tomorrow anyways, so if his break involved John then, really, he wasn’t going to complain.

Alex closed the door behind him and met John’s smile that seemed more like a dare, and then he followed him onto the bed and sat cross-legged right in front of John, and said, “So, biology?” with a smile that he hoped was cute, and-

And then they were kissing, and Alex couldn’t help but revel in how soft, and warm, and close John was, and it was the only thing he could focus on and his mind wasn’t clear but it was pretty damn close, so he did the only thing he could think of, and tightened his grip on John’s shirt, and pulled them closer together.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alex registered the fact that Martha was downstairs, and that George would be home any minute, and that Laf was liable to burst into the room without warning, but none of those seemed like good enough reasons to stop, so he just leaned into John and kissed him harder.

They stayed like that for what felt like a long time and not long enough all at once, holding each other and moving against each other and doing everything possible to get closer together, and it ended with Alex straddling John’s lap with his hands in John’s hair, while John leaned back against the headboard, with his thumbs rubbing circles into Alex’s hips.

Alex wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but when he kissed a spot on John’s neck and John gasped, he decided that it was the best sound in the world, and focused all of his attention on that spot. While he was doing that, John moved one of his hands up and ran it through Alex’s hair and tugged on it just a tiny bit, and then Alex’s hips moved of their own accord, pressing against John’s, at which point he felt-

_ Oh. _

Alex felt about a million things at once and most of those things felt dangerously close to nervous, so he pulled back before he could stop himself, and then he blinked and John blinked back, and then-

“I- I’ve never- you know-” Alex cut himself off, embarrassed and flustered and still a tiny bit out of breath and definitely more than a tiny bit aroused, but he still felt like he had something to say and John looked confused, so- “You’re the first person I’ve ever kissed,” he finished, making it all sound like one word, before he ducked his head and bit his lip and tried to disappear.

It was quiet for a moment, before John shifted in his seat and made Alex move a little bit too, and then John was rearranging them and pulling Alex into his side, and Alex let it happen because it meant that he could hide his face in John’s shoulder instead, and he was more than happy with that arrangement, even when John nudged him and asked, “Was that too fast, then?”

Alex considered it for a moment, before he decided that the most honest answer he could come up with was, “I don’t know,” and then, “You-” and then he cut himself off and swallowed down the lump in his throat and John waited for him to continue, so finally he did, with- “You were hard, so.”

At that, John shifted again and Alex was pretty sure that he was hiding his face as well, but he also let out a breath that felt a bit like a strangled laugh, and then said, “I can’t exactly help that,” and it sounded a tiny bit exasperated, which was probably because they were having the most awkward conversation in the history of the world. John continued with, “And it doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it,” and Alex smiled a tiny bit, but there was still one question floating around the back of his mind, so-

“But have you ever-  _ you know _ ?”

John surprised Alex by pulling away slightly at that, and raising an eyebrow once they were looking at each other. “Can you honestly not say s-e-x?”

Alex pursed his lips and felt his face heating up even more, but all he said was, “You’re the one who just spelt it out instead of saying it,” and John burst out laughing at that, while Alex fumed half-heartedly.

Once he calmed down, John pulled Alex closer and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, before- “Yeah, because you’re practically a tomato as it is- I don’t need you dying of embarrassment while you’re in bed with me.”

Alex continued to fume. “Just answer the question, Laurens,” he said, grumpy, though most of it was a show, because he was really, really having trouble not smiling as well.

John just rolled his eyes, sighed, and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Alex with him, before he said, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’, and prompting Alex to elbow him in the side.

“Why not?” Alex asked, his voice coming close to a whine, and going on with, “I told you, so-”

“No- No was the answer, Ham,” and Alex processed that for a moment, before-

“But have you kissed anybody before?”

John hummed a yes, and then explained it with, “I went out with a guy for a bit last year, and Laf and I kissed once in grade 7,” and Alex took the answer in stride before he was hit with what the words actually meant, and-

“ _ What? _ ”

He wasn’t angry and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t jealous, but the idea of John and Laf kissing didn’t making any sense whatsoever, and apparently John agreed, because he nodded and shrugged.

“It was an experimenting thing, you know?” he asked, and then continued with, “We were both pretty positive that we weren’t exactly straight and we wanted to test out those theories, so-” he cut himself off and shrugged again, and then, “I swear to god, it scared me off of kissing for at least 2 years. Laf’s like a brother to me. It was just-” he cut himself off again, this time with a shudder that Alex couldn’t help but laugh at.

Alex smiled at the story and John smiled back, and after a few moments Alex’s smile turned into something else, and he asked, “Not like kissing me, then?” and John seemed to catch on immediately, because he leaned down and shifted slightly so that they were face to face, before-

“Not at all like kissing you,” he said, his voice a bit lower than usual, but warm and inviting all the same, and then they were kissing again and this time Alex relaxed into it, reassured and comfortable, and thoroughly enjoying himself, until a light knock on the door interrupted them.

“Boys? Mind if I come in?” George’s voice called out, and Alex was up, across the room, and trying to lean casually against his desk before he even knew what he was doing or why he was doing it to begin with.

John looked like he was either panicking or laughing, and Alex felt the same way, but he aimed for casual when he replied, “Yeah- sure- come on it,” unable to keep his voice from cracking multiple times.

The moment George opened the door, his brow furrowed. He looked from Alex to John and then back again, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle, before he seemed to give up and said, “I brought dinner home- it’s ready whenever you are.”

_ Dinner. _

_ Right. _

Alex wasn’t sure if he’d thought those words or said them out loud, but he didn’t really care because there were a million other things spinning around his mind and he realized that they were definitely things he wanted to say out loud, even if he was more scared than he’d like to admit, so he took a deep breath and blurted out the words, “ _ John and I are dating _ ,” before he could stop himself, and then it was quiet.

But Alex hated the silence and he’d never met one that he couldn’t fill with the sound of his own voice, so he continued on, with, “We’re- we’re together and I’m bisexual and I really, really like John and we’re dating and he said you know he’s gay and that you’re okay with that and Laf said you’re fine with him being pan so you have to be fine with this and you probably are but, like, it’s fine if you aren’t I guess because a lot of people aren’t which- actually it would suck if you aren’t okay with it, but it’s fine, but I’m still going to date John no matter what and I’ll still be bi no matter what, so if you’re angry-”

“Alexander, of course I’m not angry,” George interrupted, sounding more incredulous than anything, and then- “Do you remember Martha and I telling you that there’s nothing you could do to make us stop caring about you?” Alex blinked and nodded when it became apparent that George was waiting for a reaction. “And you know there’s nothing wrong with being bisexual?” Alex nodded again, and George did too. “So do we, and this doesn’t change the way we feel about you at all.”

Alex didn’t know what to say to any of that, because ‘ _ thank you _ ’ didn’t seem appropriate but, along with a crushing sense of relief, it was the only thing coursing through his veins and it was practically screaming at him to just do  _ something _ , so he threw himself at George before he could stop himself, and hugged the man as tightly as he could and, it took a moment and it was a bit awkward, but George hugged him back.

“It’s fine, son, you’re fine,” George said, soft and reassuring, and Alex nodded into his chest before he pulled away and cleared his throat.

“Dinner?” he asked after a moment, and Alex was almost surprised when he turned to see John still sitting on the bed, smiling.

“Dinner,” John agreed and, with a small nod towards George and the expectation that John was following, Alex headed down to the kitchen.

Martha didn’t say anything at all when Alex walked in holding hands with John, though Laf did seem to perk up from where he’d been slouching at the table, surrounded by textbooks, and Alex found himself repeating the words, “John and I are dating,” to Martha, this time with more confidence.

Martha smiled and nodded and didn’t look surprised at all, but all she said was, “I’m glad to hear it. You’ll be good for each other,” and then she was handing them plates of pre-made pasta and garlic bread and ushering them towards the table, and asking them how long they’d been together and when they knew they’d liked each other, and Alex was more than happy to answer her questions while George listened on with a smile, John blushed, and Laf pretended to gag.

Of course, when Martha easily transitioned the conversation into the question of, “Do we have to talk about safety?” Alex really did gag, and proceeded to choke on his food in surprise.

“We really, really, really don’t,” Alex tried, while John’s face turned an even darker red, Laf suddenly looked less amused and incredibly focused on his food, and even George coughed slightly, also focusing on his plate, while Martha rolled her eyes.

“Alright then,” she said, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief a moment too soon because she continued with, “But there are condoms in the cupboards in all of the bathrooms upstairs, and it’s important that you use them if you need them, and that you know not to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, and-”

George coughed even louder, and Martha glared at him. “Honey, maybe wait until after dinner?”

Martha pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, but she also sighed and said, “Fine,” and then they moved onto another topic, and then another, and Alex wasn’t exactly looking forward to when it came back around to The Talk, but rather than focusing on that he decided to just enjoy the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will probably involve alex wearing glasses and going to therapy, but i haven't really decided yet, so we'll see!
> 
> and if you liked this, let me know? <3
> 
> (also i'm lowkey considering making alex's therapist canada's first pm sir john a macdonald because i'm already writing about america's founding father's so i feel like i should fuck with my country a bit too somebody please stop me)


	29. a blank slate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex consults aaron burr, and then visits a therapist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good ol sir john a macdonald is bringing some canadian flare to this story as alex's therapist, but all i know about him is that he was an alcoholic and kind of a piece of shit, so i ignored everything historical and wrote him like this instead!
> 
> also i practically gave myself an existential crisis writing some of alex's ramblings in this chapter and they're barely even coherent, because that's what i feel like a.ham talks like sometimes, so you've got that to enjoy as well!

Exams went by easily enough and, in the few days after them but before the next semester started, Alex actually found himself missing them.

He hung out with his friends and he went out with John and he watched TV with Laf, but he also didn’t have anything to do when he was alone and he was itching to write something, but he had no idea what and he didn’t have any assignments to guide him in that. He wasn’t bored, but the absence of work did leave him restless and antsy so, when Martha reminded him about his appointment coming up and he realized that there was no way he could get out of it, he ended up writing about it.

He’d talked to his fair share of social workers, but something told him that an appointment with an actual trained therapist or psychologist or whatever the fuck this guy was would be different, and he didn’t like different because different was always difficult to prepare for.

Because of that, close to midnight the night before the appointment, Alex remembered the original conversation he’d had with the Washington’s about the whole therapy thing and, in turn, remembered George saying something about Aaron going to therapy and then, before he could stop himself, he found himself texting Aaron.

All he said was, ‘ _ Hey Aaron, how’s it going? _ ’ but a response came a few minutes later reading, ‘ _ It’s the middle of the night, Alexander. Do you ever sleep? _ ’ and Alex doubted himself for half a second, before-

_ ‘I know this is weird and random and you’re probably asleep because I’m pretty sure you’re actually an 80 year old man, but I have a question and I was wondering if you could answer it?’ _

When the response came, reading, ‘ _ What’s the question? _ ’ Alex smiled a tiny bit.

_ ‘You’ve talked to therapists before, right?’ _

_ ‘How is that any of your business?’ _

Alex bit his lip and typed, out a long, winded response, before he sighed and just pressed the call button. Aaron answered a few rings later, and Alex laughed slightly. “For a second I thought you weren’t going to pick up,” he said, and Aaron didn’t deny it.

“I was almost asleep, Alexander. Can’t you ask me overly personal questions another time?”

“I- well, no, not really, this one’s kind of time sensitive,” Alex said, and then, upon hearing Aaron sigh, he decided to speed things along anyways. “George and Martha want me to see a shrink and my first appointment’s tomorrow and I don’t really know what to expect which makes it kind of hard to prepare for and I googled it and everything but I got different answers from every website and you’re probably more reliable than wikihow, so-”

“So you thought you’d call me in the middle of the night,” Aaron concluded, and Alex didn’t say anything because he wasn’t entirely wrong and, after a moment, Aaron continued, asking, “What do you want to know?” and sounding slightly less irritated.

“Just-” Alex started, cut himself off, and then- “What will he ask me? What will he want to talk about?”

“You realize I can’t predict the future, right?” Aaron asked, and then, before Alex could snap something back, “But he’ll probably just try to get to know you tomorrow, so he’ll ask you a lot about yourself, maybe get you to fill out some forms, you’ll talk about what you’re hoping to gain, that kind of stuff.”

“What I want to gain?”

“Are you planning on sitting there and wasting his time for an hour, or do you actually want to take things away from your sessions?”

Alex stopped himself from answering the first part of the question with a ‘yes’ because he was pretty sure that Aaron wouldn’t be impressed. Instead, Alex hummed and considered it and, after a moment, said, “Thanks, Aaron,” and he heard Aaron sigh again.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” he said, and the dial tone sounded in Alex’s ear before he could say anything else.

Still, he’d gotten the information from Aaron that he needed and, by the time he walked into John Macdonald’s office, he had a plan.

Alex had spent the vast majority of his life ranting to people about things he cared about without ever actually talking about himself, and that’s exactly what he was going to do and, if it all went according to plan, Macdonald wouldn’t know what hit him.

His confidence was only solidified when he saw the man in question because, really, he was possibly the most average looking person Alex had ever laid eyes on.

John Macdonald was probably about George’s age, albeit with quite a bit more greying hair, and wrinkles on his face that Alex supposed could be considered laugh lines. He was taller than Alex, of average build, and dressed in relatively plain clothing, which matched his undecorated office entirely. He looked like a blank slate, and Alex couldn’t tell whether or not it was intentional.

He stood up when Alex walked in, with a polite smile and a sweep of his hand as he said, “Alexander Hamilton, please come in- it’s a pleasure to meet you,” which Alex opted to ignore altogether, and hover by the door.

“Should this be open or closed? Because I really don’t care but it’s going to be super awkward if you want it open and I close it or if you want it closed and I keep it open, and there is a bit of a draft in the hall so maybe closed it best, but if it gets stuffy in here the draft could be nice, so.”

Macdonald didn’t waver at all as he sat down and said, “Closed, if you don’t mind,” and then gestured to the seats in front of him and added, “And please, make yourself comfortable. I’m Dr. Macdonald, but call me John, if you like.”

The couch looked a tiny bit too stereotypical for Alex’s liking, so he opted to sit in the arm chair that was slightly off to the side, perching on the edge of the seat and leaving his hands in his lap, making a point of not being comfortable. Once he was done that, he raised an eyebrow at the man in front of him, who nodded.

“Perfect. Now, before we get started, if you don’t mind I’d like to take notes while we talk,” he explained, and Alex had expected as much but he didn’t say anything because that felt like defeat, and then the man continued with, “Of course, if you’re opposed to that I can always record our conversations instead?”

It was tempting, but Alex shook his head. “Notes are fine,” he said, and then, “Or whatever. I mean, I feel like being recorded would be weird for you because I know that listening to your own voice is always really weird and if you record it you’re going to have to listen to your own voice, and you’ll probably just go back and take notes later anyways, so.”

“Wonderful,” Macdonald said, and then, “And do you have any questions or concerns that you want to voice?”

Once again, Alex shook his head. If he’d planned on actually telling Macdonald anything, then his answer might have been different but, as it was, he really couldn’t care less. His main concern was getting through the appointment and, hopefully, never having to come back and, if he just didn’t give anything away, then he was pretty sure he could do that.

“Alright, then. We’ll just be going over some basics today, but before we start that I always like to ask people why they think they’re here.”

Alex could have played nice and spewed out some bullshit right away, but instead he just stared at Dr. Macdonald for a few moments before he asked, “Well then, are you going to ask me?” and it got him a polite laugh.

“Phrasing is everything, I suppose,” the man conceded, and then, “I’ll try that again. So tell me, why do you think you’re here, Alexander?”

At that, Alex shrugged. “Why are any of us here, you know? Like, we live, we die, but I couldn’t tell you what the bigger picture is if I tried- I mean, I read one theory that said that the world that we know is just a giant computer simulation and that it’s an experiment for something bigger, and there was another that said that this world is another world’s hell, which seems a bit too dramatic to me, all things considered, and a lot of people think that life on earth was just a big accident, you know, like- the stars or whatever collided the right way, but then I guess that leads us to wondering why the stars and stuff exist, and if we started talking about that, we’d be here all day.”

Alex was a bit put off to find that, throughout his rant, Macdonald didn’t blink at all. “I’ve always been a fan of the idea that we’re all put here for a reason that’s a bit more important than us being a mistake, but that’s just me,” he said, evenly, and then, “But what I meant to ask was, why do you think you’re here, in my office, today?”

Alex bit back his surprise at the first part of the answer and said, “Well, if we’re going by your favoured theory and you want the short answer, I’m here because I was meant to be here, I suppose,” he said, and then, “And if you want the long answer according to your theory, it’s because I was born, I lived in the middle of nowhere for a while, my family moved to America, a bunch of other stuff happened, all of which happened because it was meant to, and then Martha and George decided that I was meant to talk to you about it, and now here I am, because of fate.”

Alex was surprised when, once again, Dr. Macdonald barely reacted, except for a smile that seemed to threaten the corner of his mouth. “What I got from all of that,” he started, “Is that you’re not a big fan of fate, and that you’re here because your foster parents want you to be.”

Alex shrugged. “I suppose that’s another short version of it,” he agreed, and then, “And honestly, why would anybody like fate? As far as theories go, fate is just about the shittiest one out there. I mean, if you believe in fate then you might as well never do anything ever because what’s the point, you know? If you believe in fate then you don’t even really believe that your decisions and ideas are your own, because you

“That’s an interesting way to look at it,” Dr. Macdonald said, and then, “Though when I said we were just going to cover the basics today, existentialism isn’t quite what I had in mind. I meant more along the lines of us getting to know each other and seeing if we’re a good fit.”

Alex was about to launch into a barely thought-out speech that he didn’t quite believe, wondering whether or not you can ever really know anybody, when something about the man’s phrasing caught his attention.

“What do you mean, a good fit?” he asked, and Macdonald set his pen down for a moment.

“I mean, there are many different kind of therapy, and many different kinds of therapists, and many different kinds of people who seek therapy. They don’t all work well together, and sometimes it takes a while before somebody finds a therapist who actually fits their needs. It’s always a good idea to see if we’ll work well together before we dive into the bigger things, so that’s what I propose we do.”

Alex narrowed his eyes slightly and tilted his head, and finally asked, “And how do we do that?” and he decided to ignore the skepticism that his voice was laced with.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Macdonald asked, as if it were the most simple thing in the world, and Alex shook his head, before he stopped half way and something crossed his mind, and-

“I have trouble sleeping sometimes. You can help with that?”

“I can only help you with things you’re willing to talk about, Alexander, but yes. That’s something we can talk about,” Dr. Macdonald said, and he wrote something down before he continued with, “Is there anything else you’re hoping to cover here?”

That was something that Alex had already thought about it, so he was half way through shaking his head, when he realized that there were a lot of things that he  _ wanted _ to discuss with somebody, but that he couldn’t.

He wanted to tell somebody about his father, and about the money he’d given him, and about how much it all hurt, and about his mom and his cousin and all of the things that he didn’t think about anymore because of how much they hurt, and about how every once in a while he couldn’t do anything but lay in bed, frozen and afraid and alone, and drown in himself. He was pretty sure that the last one was exactly what he was supposed to talk about, but he couldn’t because it would lead to everything else and he didn’t need to talk about everything else- he wanted to, but he didn’t need to, and he couldn’t, so he just kept shaking his head.

Dr. Macdonald’s blank slate was tempting, but the possibility of getting everything out in the open was also too dangerous so, without further ado, Alex dove into a speech about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and then used it to explain how, once he got sleep under control everything else would follow, and he wasn’t sure that any of it made sense and if it did then he definitely didn’t understand it, but Dr. Macdonald listened anyways.

And then the session kept going and it went smoothly after that, and, when Martha asked him about it on the car ride home, Alex told her that it went well and that he was fine with her making him another appointment and, really, he was.

He didn’t feel like the appointment had been particularly productive, and he still didn’t want to share his entire life’s story with Dr. Macdonald, but he also almost felt at ease, and that was a lot more than he’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a whole this chapter feels kind of filler-y and it wasn't really necessary at all, but i only realized that after i wrote it and i like posting a lot, so i'm going to post it for now and maybe delete it later, and if i end up deleting it then i'll just make the beginning of the next chapter something that briefly touches on this or something idk i've never actually planned a story in my life and this is the longest thing i've ever written, so i'm really just making it up as i go, but if you like it let me know?


	30. eliza and maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex chills with eliza, and then with john

Second semester started, and it found Alex taking Math, World Politics, and Debate.

The fact that he had fifth period as a spare was something that he’d protested greatly but, according to multiple guidance councillors and the vice principal, there was nothing he could do about it. The only good thing about the free period was that Eliza had it too, which meant that the two of them would be stuck in the library together, waiting for their respective rides to be done with classes so they could go home.

At first it was strange, because, despite being friends and being in the same group of friends, Alex couldn’t recall having spent any time alone with Eliza, and he realized quickly that that was a shame.

She was quieter than her sisters and a tiny bit more reserved, but underneath that she was ridiculously passionate if you knew what questions to ask her, and friendly, and, frankly, a huge nerd. Because of that, they hardly ever got work done during their spare period, like they were supposed to. Instead, they spent it watching Doctor Who because, according to Eliza, “Angelica and Peggy don’t get it, but it’s brilliant and wonderful and you have to at least give it a try before you side with them,” and Alex found that he liked it as well.

It wasn’t quite on par with Scandal, and maybe the Doctor running around the universe meeting new people but never staying for long and never having a home hit a bit too close to home for Alex, but Eliza’s eyes lit up when she talked about it and most of the characters were really endearing, so he did his best to never say a bad word about it.

As far as his actual classes went, Math was as boring as it was at the millions of other school’s Alex had attended, and not even sitting between Laf and Maria could make up for that. World Politics was interesting, if only because Peggy was in the class with him and, as always, she was willing to derail just about every lesson with a new conspiracy theory.

And then there was Debate class.

If anybody had asked, Alex would fervently deny it but, truthfully, he was a tiny bit happy that Thomas Jefferson was in the class as well, because it meant that Alex got to fight with him on a near daily basis, and he got good grades for doing it.

Hercules and Angelica and James Madison were in the class as well, and Alex suspected that they enjoyed watching his debates with Thomas slowly turn into screaming matches, but Hercules and Angelica and a surprisingly large number of other students were willing to back Alex almost constantly, so he really didn’t mind.

As a whole, Alex really was enjoying himself. His classes were decent, he finally had work to do again, and his new glasses meant that he could actually see the board this time around (and if he wore them all the time because he was pretty sure that John had a thing for them, then so what?).

Still, having Debate class with Thomas ensured that Alex wasn’t happy constantly, because every once in a while the asshole managed to get under his skin.

In particular, one day a few weeks into the new semester, Alex lost a debate against Thomas because he interrupted the other boy after he’d gotten tired of hearing undocumented immigrants repeatedly being referred to as ‘aliens.’ Alex had only interrupted to point out that the term was ‘ _ outdated, racist, and complete and utter bullshit _ ,’ and he’d been surprised to find that the teacher actually agreed with him, though still felt the need to doc points from Alex because, ‘ _ You can’t just speak out of term, and you’re never going to learn that if you don’t face some consequences, Hamilton _ .’

Alex was still upset about it by the time he got to the library for fifth spare, and Eliza only took one look at him before she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is Angelica going to have another Debate class story about you to tell at dinner?”

Alex rolled his eyes and collapsed into a chair across from her with a huff, before he said, “Thomas Jefferson can suck my dick.”

“I’m sure John wouldn’t be happy to hear that,” Eliza said easily, and when Alex’s eyes widened in surprise hers followed, and a hand flew to her face and she groaned, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. I’ve been around my sister’s too long- they’re rubbing off on me.”

Alex was still too disgruntled to laugh, but he did smile slightly and said, “Peggy would be so proud,” and Eliza groaned again, though she also shook her head and smiled back.

“What I meant to say,” she started pointedly, “Was, tell me, Alex, what happened in class?”

Eliza was the kind of person you trusted just by looking at. There was something about her that relayed confidence and honesty and, on top of that, she was the kind of person who you couldn’t help but want to talk to. Because of that, Alex found himself listing off every rude, ignorant thing that Thomas Jefferson had ever said to him about anything, ending in a recount of their debate from that day, and Alex was surprised to find that, by the end of the whole thing, Eliza looked angrier than he’d ever seen her.

“Honestly, I like to believe that people are good and that they make mistakes and deserve second chances,” she said, with her usual lightness gone entirely, “But Thomas Jefferson is just terrible. I can’t think of a single redeeming quality.”

Coming from Eliza, that seemed to be saying a lot, but Alex agreed with it entirely, so he nodded his head and said, “Right? He’s just-” he cut himself off with a wave of his hands and a noise that was a cross between disgruntled and pissed off, and Eliza pursed her lips.

“Did you know he blackmailed me and Maria once?” she asked after a moment, and Alex had heard all of his friends complain about Thomas but he was positive that he’d never heard that, so he shook his head and Eliza continued.

“Yeah,” she said, “It was a while ago- the middle of grade nine, and Maria didn’t really have any friends except for this one really creepy guy in grade twelve who she was also sort of dating, but I saw her crying one day so I went to talk to her because, really, that’s what anybody would do, and, well, you know Maria- she’s fantastic, so obviously we became friends, and kept talking, except her boyfriend really didn’t like her talking to other people so we kept it really low key, but Thomas saw us hugging one day and, I mean, it really was just a hug, but-”

She cut herself off with a shrug, while Alex knew he was gaping.

“He blackmailed you with that?” he asked after a moment, because that seemed like a new low, but Eliza just nodded, so Alex didn’t hesitate to declare, “I hate him.”

Eliza didn’t say anything for a few moments, but then she shrugged again and said, “It worked out in the end,” and then, “Aaron actually helped out a lot- by that point he was sort of friends with Maria as well, and he talked her into leaving the guy, and then James- his name’s James- when he got mad Aaron actually punched him, and then Angelica found out about the whole thing and she punched Thomas, and I’m pretty sure John punched somebody too, but it did all work out in the end.”

Eliza had a way of talking about it that sounded detached and nowhere near as warm as her voice normally was, so Alex didn’t hesitate to grab her hand and squeeze it, and that got a smile, at least.

Trying to make her laugh, Alex asked, “Aaron Burr actually punched somebody?” and it sort of worked.

She did laugh, and she smiled as well, and then she said, “I know he seems a bit- flakey? That might be harsh, but you know what I mean, right?” and when Alex nodded she continued with, “Yeah, but he’s also a really good person, I think, and surprisingly good to have around in a crisis.”

Alex nodded, because he wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that, and then Eliza nodded too, and said something along the lines of, “I’m telling you, Alex, our group of friends is wild,” and then she tilted her computer screen towards Alex and offered an ear bud, and Alex took it, grateful that they were back in known territory.

Alex pulled his chair as close to hers as he could get it, and they were cuddling within five minutes, because watching the Doctor regenerate turned out to be a lot more emotional than Alex had expected, and if he cried at one point then that was nobody’s business but his, though he was also pretty sure that Eliza added a picture of it to her snapchat story.

That suspicion was confirmed at the end of the day, when Alex decided to meet John at his locker, and John turned to him and immediately asked, “Are you okay, babe? Do you need a tissue? Maybe some ice cream?” and Alex rolled his eyes.

“It was a sad episode, alright?” he asked, and then, “But it wasn’t about the ocean and it didn’t have any animals in it, so I doubt you would understand.”

At that, John feigned offence with a dramatic flair that would make Laf proud, and said, “You wound me, my love,” and then, “It’s like you don’t know me at all- I also happen to enjoy TV shows with car chases and great action scenes. I’m very deep, you know.”

“Your favourite movie is Shark Tale.”

“Do you know how many iconic scenes are in that movie?”

“None?”

“Okay, your mouth said ‘none,’ but your eyes said, ‘John, dearest, it’s my favourite movie as well, and we should watch it together right now, immediately.’”

“Even if it were my eyes talking, they would never say ‘right now, immediately.’ It’s redundant, while I happen to be very eloquent.”

“You’re a nerd who cries when you watch Doctor Who.”

“You cry during Finding Nemo.”

“So do you- everybody does, Ham- that doesn’t make me a nerd, it makes me human,” John exclaimed, and Alex wasn’t bothering to hide his smile anymore and neither was John, and they’d moved closer, and John reached out to straighten Alex’s glasses and said, “But if we’re trying to decide who the bigger nerd is, you’ve got glasses, so-”

“Everybody wears glasses,” Alex interrupted him, only a tiny bit affronted, and then he went on to lower his voice slightly into his best John-imitation when he said, “That doesn’t make me a nerd, it makes me human,” and, when John laughed, he finished it off with, “Besides, you love my glasses.”

John’s smile only widened at that, and he said, “You’re not wrong, Ham,” and then he was leaning in and Alex was waiting for the kiss that he knew was coming, and it was then that a loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately familiar voice interrupted them, with-

“Would you two  _ please _ get a room? Some of us don’t want  _ that _ thrown in our faces,” and Alex looked up to see Thomas fucking Jefferson, and he remembered what Eliza had told him, and suddenly he was even angrier than before and he was taking a step away from John and towards Thomas and his hands were curling into fists, and he was more than ready for a fight, so he was surprised when it was John who grabbed one of his fists and used the grip to hold him in place.

“Jealous, Tommy?” he asked, and then he was kissing Alex and, when Alex realized what was happening he kissed John back even harder, and if Alex used the fist that John wasn’t holding to give Thomas the middle finger, and if they kept kissing long after Thomas actually left, and if Alex realized in that moment that he was completely and entirely in love with his boyfriend, then so what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if anybody was wondering, Eliza and Maria only got together dating wise this past summer and before that they were best friends and Eliza was hardcore in love with Maria before that but she kept it low key because when they met Maria was dating a guy (an asshole honestly fuck james reynolds) and she needed a friend so that’s what Eliza was to her, because Eliza has a soft spot for people who need help and Maria really, really needed help, so Eliza befriended her and in turn so did the rest of their friend group and Maria ditched James and all that and became like a full-fledged member of their squad, but Eliza was under the impression that 1. Maria was straight and 2. If she showed any interest in Maria other than friendship wise interest, maria would feel obliged to return it because maria’s never been the best at saying no, so eliza just didn’t do anything for the longest time and she was really, really fine with that, and then one day in the summer all their friends were at the beach the schuyler’s own, hanging out and making a day trip out of it, and everybody else was swimming, while Eliza opted to chill in the sun on the sand and Maria decided to join her, and Eliza was laying on her back with her eyes closed, feeling warm and happy because the sun was shining and she could hear her friends laughing, and then she heard Maria shift and she could feel Maria watching her but Maria didn’t say anything for a really long time so neither did Eliza, and then Maria broke the silence and said “I love you, ‘liza” and Eliza said it back right away because obviously she loved her friend and this was a friend thing, but then Maria was like “No, Eliza, I’m like, in love with you,” at which point Eliza was like ‘holy shit I’m dreaming’ but she didn’t actually say anything out loud, but then she realized that it was all real so she started smiling the biggest smile in the world and then she opened her eyes and Maria was also smiling but it was small and nervous looking and all Eliza could think to say was, “I’m in love with you too” and then Maria kissed her and it was soft and beautiful and pure and they’ve been together ever since AND I'VE ALREADY STARTED WRITING THIS FIC SOMEBODY PLEASE STOP ME BUT ALSO IT'S SO MUCH FUN PLEASE DON'T STOP ME
> 
> (also just a warning that things are going to take a turn for the angsty after this chapter...)
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	31. helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex gets sick and misses school, and when he gets back a relatively unpleasant surprise is waiting for him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (600 kudos??? what the fuck?? you're all beautiful and if you've read this far and left kudos/commented, i love you! <3)

Alex hated being sick more than anything else in the world.

Because of that, when he woke up with a scratchy throat and a fuzzy feeling surrounding his brain that no amount of coffee would cure, his mood dropped pretty quickly.

When he woke up the next day, unable to breathe through his nose entirely and coughing whenever he breathed through his mouth, he was even less impressed.

Worst of all was the day after that, when Martha finally put her foot down and made Alex stay home from school because, “You’re just going to keep getting worse at this rate, and I don’t care if it’s just a cold. You’ve got a fever, so you’re not getting out of bed until it breaks.”

He wanted to point out that he’d survived much worse, but he also didn’t really thing she would care, and his head did hurt a lot, so he finally relented. Unfortunately, that also meant that she got to decide when he was healthy again, which meant that he missed school on Wednesday, and wasn’t back in classes until Monday.

He’d filled the days in between with TV shows, and articles he found online, and homework that Laf brought for him, and his friends’ constant updates in the group chat and through snapchat, but it didn’t take long for him to grow restless, and when that happened, he became snappy. He only half-listened when Laf told him about school, because he wanted to be there- he didn’t want to hear about it, and he grumbled about the food that George and Martha brought him and, on Friday, when Martha was checking his temperature and deciding that he still wasn’t fit to go back to school, Alex barely said a word to her at all.

That, apparently, was her breaking point. She didn’t get angry and she didn’t raise her voice, but she did frown and say, “I know you don’t like missing school, Alex, but you wouldn’t be doing anybody any good if you went today. Just take it easy and you’ll be back on Monday, alright?”

Alex knew she was right but he also absolutely refused to admit it, so he just muttered, “Whatever,” and barely looked at her.

For her part, Martha seemed to tense slightly, but all she said was, “Pardon me?” and Alex swallowed, ignoring how much it actually hurt to do so, and crossed his arms and repeated himself, at which point Martha sighed and stood up. “I know being sick isn’t fun, but it also isn’t an excuse to be rude, Alexander.”

It was the shortest she’d ever been with him and, on one hand, Alex knew he deserved it, but he also realized that she definitely didn’t deserve his attitude and he really didn’t want her to leave the room mad at him, so-

“I’m sorry,” he said, quiet but loud enough to prompt her to stop and turn back around, at which point Alex looked away but said, “But I’ve had worse, you know? Like, my mom and I didn’t have health care for a really long time and we got sick a lot but we were fine until- well- you know- we got sick but I was fine, even though she- you know. It-. I haven’t died yet, so. I’ll be fine.”

Martha tilted her head to the side, lips still pursed but the lines on her face softening, and Alex realized then that it was the first time he’d mentioned one of his birth parents to either of the Washington’s, and he was pretty sure that Martha realized it as well and, suddenly, Alex wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Because of that, when Martha finally smiled slightly and said, “‘Haven’t died yet’ probably isn’t the best measurement of health that you could use,” Alex smiled back, relieved, and then she said, “But I appreciate the apology, and it’s alright, Alex.”

Alex nodded, surprised that the fight was ending so quickly and so easily, and not entirely sure that it could even be considered a fight, and then Martha was backing out of the room, but she paused at the door.

“You know,” she said, tilting her head slightly and leaning against the doorframe, “You are George are a lot more alike than you think.”

Alex had expected the conversation to go in about a million different directions but that hadn’t been one of them, so all he did was blink. “I- are we?” he settled on after a moment, and Martha smiled, but it almost looked sad.

“You’re both way too stubborn for your own good, and neither of you have learned how to accept help without question,” she said,  not without affection, and then, “I’m still holding out hope that he’ll learn otherwise, and I’ve been married to him for fifteen years, so trust me when I say that I won’t be giving up on you any time either, Alex. You’re a good kid.”

Alex didn’t know what to say to that, but it seemed like Martha wasn’t expecting an answer because she backed out of the room entirely, and left Alex alone with nothing to do, once again.

His head still felt fuzzy and the whole world seemed muffled around him, and his throat was scratchy and awful and his stomach was rolling, and now it was accompanied by a sense of guilt that he never quite seemed to shake. It snuck up on him when he least expected it, when the Washington’s said something nice, or when all they said was ‘good morning’, or when Alex walked into a room and saw them acting normal and domestic and happy, or whenever something good happened to him at all.

More than anything else in the world, he wanted to blame the guilt on his father and on the money Alex had given him, because that at least would mean that there was a chance it would disappear eventually, but he also couldn’t bring himself to do that, because the guilt had been there for as long as he could remember.

If he wasn’t working, and doing his best, and thriving, it showed up, and it told him that he wasn’t doing enough and that he didn’t deserve what he had, and that he was going to lose it all if he didn’t just keep going, and he hated it.

He knew that some of it was because of what he’d given his father, but Alex also knew that most of it was because of who he was as a person, and that it wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, and that distracting himself from it was by far his best option. Because of that, he grabbed his phone.

Waiting for him was a snapchat selfie from John with an exaggerated frown that was captioned, ‘ _ missing you,’ _ followed by another picture, this time of all of his friends crammed together, fighting for a spot in the picture, and John had captioned it,  _ ‘they miss you too, I guess. _ ’

Alex smiled and took screenshots of both, and wasn’t at all surprised when John texted him immediately, saying, ‘ _ really?? is there anything you don’t save??’ _

Still feeling a tiny bit petulant, Alex replied, ‘ _ I’ve been in bed for two and a half days. If I don’t save the pictures, I’ll forget what you look like.’ _

John’s response read, ‘ _ you could never. you like my face too much for that _ ,’ and Alex replied, ‘…’ and then,  _ ‘It is a very nice face _ ,’ and John sent back a heart, and then it was over because John was probably in class and Alex was bored out of his mind and still just feeling off, so he got started on his homework.

By the time Monday rolled around, he was ahead in all his classes and more than ready to actually attend them, so when he woke up at five in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep, he decided to make himself breakfast.

He found bacon and eggs in the fridge, and a loaf of bread that was a day expired but didn’t look moldy, and he made himself coffee as well, and he was just sitting down to eat it, when Laf wandered into the room and collapsed at the table.

“You woke me up with the smell of bacon,” he said, his voice muffled because his face was buried in his hands, leaning against the table, “So now you owe me bacon.”

Alex hadn’t intended to share, but he’d definitely made more than he could eat by himself, so he kicked Laf under the table and, when Laf looked up, he pushed his plate over a bit, so it was between them.

Laf didn’t say another word and neither did Alex, as they sat and ate the food. It was still dark outside and dim in the kitchen, and somebody was showering upstairs and Alex knew that the world was waking up around them, but in that moment it felt like the Washington’s home was in its own bubble, safe and distant from everything else, and Alex was surprised by how peaceful he felt.

Of course, he was still itching to go to school so, the second Laf was done fixing his hair and getting dressed, Alex herded him out the door and to the car, and they stopped for more coffee along the way but they still arrived before anybody else.

The halls were quiet and empty except for the odd teacher, and Laf went to his locker while Alex went to his own, and Alex was still feeling excited and content and good, when he opened the door and his blood ran cold, because of the piece of paper taped to the inside of it.

His father hadn’t bothered with an envelope this time, so Alex didn’t even have time to think about it and decide against it, before he read the first line of the letter and then the next and the next and the next, and then it was done and he was reading it again, and again, and again.

_ ‘Dear Alexander, _

_ I appreciate your last gift but, unfortunately for both of us, it isn’t enough. _

_ Meet me at the usual spot at lunch on Monday, and this time bring double. If you aren’t there, I’m sure there are quite a few journalists who would be interested to know about out last exchange. A presidential candidate’s foster child stealing from them won’t sound good, but if you help me out one more time, nobody needs to know about any of this. _

_ You’ve got a lot more to lose here than I do. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ J. Ham’ _

Alex felt his stomach drop and his head clear, and suddenly he was very aware of the silence around him. It buzzed in his ears and filled his head and it was the only thing he could focus on, so when it was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, Alex broke out of his trance immediately.

He looked up to see Laf walking towards him, so he shut the locker without a second thought, and forced himself to breath normally, even as the words on the paper replayed themselves in his head. He could hear his father reading them, and he could imagine his father writing it, and all that did was make it seem all the more real.

Still, if Laf noticed anything, he didn’t mention it.

Instead, he flung himself at Alex, and Alex staggered to hold him up, and he said something along the lines of, “We are never getting here this early again,” and Alex found himself agreeing, and then he found himself being dragged to their math classroom only to find the door locked, at which point he and Laf sat on the floor and Laf promptly fell asleep on his shoulder.

Alex didn’t know whether or not he was grateful for the silence, but it was interrupted every couple of seconds by the sound of Laf breathing, and it was more comforting than Alex would have expected. It made him feel like he wasn’t alone, even if that wasn’t strictly true.

Alex wanted to run away, and he wanted to scream, and he wanted to burst out crying and tell the world the truth, but he couldn’t do that because every time he thought about it, he imagined the Washington’s disappointment at his betrayal, and his heart broke. He wanted to curl into himself and crawl into bed and never be seen again, but that wasn’t an option either.

He’d told Dr. Macdonald that he could handle everything, and it wasn’t a lie.

He could take care of it, and it would disappear, and he would be fine.

He was going to be fine.

For the first time in his life, he took comfort in words from his father, and reassured himself with the ‘nobody needs to know’ that was at the end of the letter.

He didn’t entirely believe it, but he wanted to.

He wanted to believe that, if he met his father one last time and if he helped him out one last time, it would be over. He wanted to believe that his father would leave him alone, and that nobody would ever find out about it, and that, if he did this one thing, it would never be a problem again. He wanted to believe that he was taking care of it, because he could think of anything else that he could do, and, for once in his life, he felt resigned.

He felt helpless, and he felt lost, and he felt tired, but he also knew that none of that would work so, by the time students started streaming into the halls and the warning bell rang, waking Laf up, Alex had swallowed back his pride and settled into a pool of resolve, but he also did his best to cover it all with smiles and laughs and normal conversations so that his friends wouldn’t suspect a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean, we all saw this coming, right?


	32. helpless part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex tries his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but i feel like a lot happens? or not a lot, but the plot moves forward a lot, so...

Alex gave his father the rest of his money.

He lied to his friends about what he was doing at lunch, and he stopped at an ATM on his way to the coffee shop, and he emptied his bank account of the $150 that he had left, and this time he didn’t bother with an envelope.

Instead, he rolled it up and held it in his fist and shoved it in his pocket and walked the rest of the way to the coffee shop, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. When he got there, he walked straight to the table his father was sitting at, and dropped the money onto it unceremoniously.

His father looked up, startled and a tiny bit wary, but Alex couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Instead, he nodded towards the pile of money, ignoring the looks the whole thing was probably getting them, and his fathersighed but started collecting the money after a moment.

His jaw was tense and something close to disappointment flashed across his face then, and Alex had to swallow back the disgust that was washing through him.

“It’s all I’ve got,” he said, and then, “I don’t- I can’t- that’s it.”

Alex hated himself for tripping on the words, when he usually knew exactly what to say and do. He hated that his father made him trip over his words and, in that moment, he almost hated his father. When the man fixed him with an even gaze and a raised eyebrow, Alex wanted to scream.

“It’s less than last time,” he said, and Alex swallowed again, even as his father continued with, “You’re living with millionaires and this is really all you’ve got?”

He wasn’t going to scream, and he wasn’t going to make a scene.

“This is what they’ve given me. I can’t- I’m not- I won’t steal from them,” he finally said, and this time he did sound angry and his father definitely noticed, and Alex crossed his arms over his chest and shuffled his feet, and considered storming out at that very moment, but-

“Well that’s a shame,” his father said, and then, “Though not entirely surprising, I suppose. You were always a bit too honourable for your own good, but this’ll do for now.”

The ‘for now’ lingered between them and Alex let the implication wash over him, and he wanted to be surprised but he wasn’t. At this point, he wasn’t even disappointed. He was tired, and he was resigned, and he was going to do what it took to survive.

He nodded, and his father smiled.

“Alexander, you know, your help means the world t-”

“Don’t,” Alex interrupted, “Just don’t.”

And then he turned on his heels and he was walking out of the coffee shop as quickly as he could, ignoring the faces around him and the protests of the people the he pushed past and the sound of an eerily familiar voice saying ‘oh my god’ in the background, and then he was outside and the cold air did nothing to calm him down.

The walk back to school didn’t either, and when he got there and realized that lunch was barely half way over, he pushed everything that he’d just done to the back of his mind, and bit his lip again and focused on the pain and used that to ground him, and then he headed for the cafeteria.

Peggy was the first to see him, and her raised eyebrows alerted everybody else, and then everybody was waving and greeting him, and Alex grumbled his hello’s back, and when John asked if he was alright, Alex just muttered, “My throat still hurts,” and that got him sympathy from all around.

Maria offered him a lozenge, and Hercules suggested tea, and Angelica suggested talking less, and Alex was pretty sure that Eliza kicked her under the table, before she asked, “Didn’t you say you had work to catch up on?” at which point Laf snorted.

“He may have been in bed for half a week, but Alexander has been working constantly. I think he is actually more ahead now than he was before he got sick.”

At that, Maria coughed something that sounded close to “nerd,” which even Alex couldn’t help but smile at, even as he leaned on John’s shoulder and tried to hide it.

John took the cue and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders and protested with, “Hey now, that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about,” and then, half a second after Alex started to gloat, “I’ll have you know, he’s actually a giant nerd.”

Alex elbowed John, and John squeezed him a tiny bit closer, and Alex let him, and everybody else laughed.

Laf passed him half his sandwich, and Angelica filled him in on debate class, and John started talking to Eliza and Maria over Alex’s head, and Alex knew he should feel guilty and ashamed and disgusted with himself, and he did, but the feelings were distant and cloudy and it was almost like they weren’t there at all. He felt detached fromthem, and from his surroundings, and from himself, but he did his very best not to let it show and, for once, he almost welcomed it.

He felt like he was in a bubble; like nothing happening was quite real, and like he wasn’t actually a part of it, and like somebody was going to bump into him or speak too loudly or look at him for too long, and that he would fall apart it that happened.

He was pretty sure that Peggy was trying to catch his eye, but Alex ignored her and focused on his food, and on his conversation with Angelica, and on talking and acting normal, and he was pretty sure it worked because, by the time lunch ended, nobody seemed to suspect a thing.

It was only Eliza who actually said anything, during their spare period when Alex zoned out completely and, in turn, missed what she had said altogether, and then she was looking at him expectantly and he was blinking, and-

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, and she didn’t roll her eyes but she looked like she wanted to.

“I asked if you’re alright,” she said, gentle and concerned, and Alex new that it wasn’t a question you were supposed to think about, so he said the first thing that came to mind, which was-

“I always am, aren’t I?” and Eliza didn’t look impressed at all, so he continued after a moment, aiming for reassuring when he said, “It’s the cold still, I think- my head’s just super stuffy, you know? But I’m fine, I swear.”

Eliza frowned, but she nodded as well. “Right,” she said, and Alex forced a smile on his face and, after a moment, she did as well, and then, “But I’ve actually got work to do today, so Doctor Who will have to wait,” and that was fine by Alex.

Instead of watching TV, he spent the period writing.

He started off trying to work on a paper for world politics, but that only lasted five minutes before he opened a new document and started writing all of the things he’d wanted to say to his father, but that he didn’t get out.

More than a few times, Eliza raised an eyebrow at how hard he was typing, and once or twice he had to stop himself to blink back tears, but by the end of the period he felt better. It was still weighing down on him, and thinking about the next time he would inevitably hear from his father made him feel sick, but he’d never been a fan of worrying about things that hadn’t happened, so he pushed it aside and tried to clear his mind entirely.

When Laf drove him home from school, they listened to the radio and sung along. When they got home, they watched TV until Martha walked in with Chinese takeout in hand, and then they ate and talked about their day and George wandered in half way through the meal with complaints about how busy work had been, and Alex focused on what was going on around him and nothing more.

Everything seemed good and normal and fine, and when Alex focused on it hard enough, he could pretend that everything actually was good and normal and fine, and he started applying that attitude to everything.

At school, he went to class and did his work and talked to his friends, and everything was good and normal and fine.

When Valentine’s Day rolled around, he spent the evening curled up on a couch with John, surrounded by their friends and chocolate and junk food, watching the worst romantic comedies they could find, and everything was good and normal and fine.

When he went to see Dr. Macdonald, they talked about his sleeping and a bit about his relationship with the Washington’s, and Alex told him that everything was good and normal and fine.

He did well in his classes, and he excelled in his debate class, and one day his teacher pulled him aside after a particularly heated debate with Jefferson and asked if Alex was interested in pursuing a career in law, and Alex found himself saying yes. He even mentioned it to the Washington’s at dinner that night, more as a passing thought than anything, but Martha started talking about law school’s half a second after the words were out of Alex’s mouth, and George was smiling as well, and Alex brushed them off, but he also spent most of that night googling the school’s that Martha had mentioned, and marvelling at how fantastic they seemed.

He was living in denial, and half of him was always waiting for the other shoe to drop but, for the most part, he just didn’t think about it.

If he didn’t think about his father, his father wasn’t a problem, and if his father wasn’t a problem, then Alex was fine.

He lulled himself into a sense of security that he knew was false, but that was fine as well. He’d spent most of his life waiting for things to take a turn for the worse so, really, he almost did feel normal, in a sad sort of way.

Still, when his phone buzzed one night as he was falling asleep, and he saw that it was a message from Jefferson and that it read ‘We know,’ and nothing else, and that a video was attached to the message, he felt his stomach drop further than he’d thought possible.

He watched the video in a dazed sense of wonder and horror, as he saw himself on the screen and his father there as well, and you could only just hear what they were saying, but when Alex watched it a third time and then a fourth, words like ‘steal’ and ‘again’ jumped out at him, and the pile of money was clearly on the table, and his father was looking through it, and Alex realized all at once that he was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise, alex is going to tell somebody soon!
> 
> also i had a SUPER angsty version of the ending planned but then i was like NOOOPE because honestly i don't have the heart to write it so instead you're going to get the moderately less angsty but still pretty damn angsty ending to this story!


	33. we know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jefferson knows, and aaron finds out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this!! was!! so!! hard!! to!! write!! and i don't know why????????

****_'_ _ What the actual fuck, Jefferson?’ _

_ ‘Did you really think you’d get away with this?’ _

_ ‘You don’t even know what you’re talking about.’ _

_ ‘Really, Hamilton? Are you saying that you haven’t been giving your real father the money that the Washington’s have been giving you? Because, based on my video, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.’ _

_ ‘Are you stalking me or something?’ _

_ ‘… Because that’s the only possible reason why I would have been in a coffee shop at lunch…’ _

_ ‘Fuck you.’ _

_ ‘Well if you don’t want to play nice, that’s fine- I can always just post this online and send the link to everybody we know…’ _

_ ‘Are you blackmailing me?’ _

_ ‘I knew you’d catch on eventually.’ _

_ ‘Why are you doing this??’ _

_ ‘Mostly because I can, though I have to say, I’m also concerned about Lafayette… He’d be crushed if he found out about this, you know.’ _

_ ‘So what do you want from me?’ _

_ ‘I haven’t decided yet. But for now? Maybe tone it down in debate class. Trust me when I say, you not talking will be doing the world a favor.’ _

_ ‘Are you serious?’ _

_ ‘Entirely.’ _

_ ‘Fine.’ _

_ ‘ :) ’ _

Alex felt sick.

He wanted to yell and scream and throw his phone across the room and watch the screen crack and fall apart, and he wanted to tear apart the rest of his room along with it, and he wanted to fight somebody about absolutely anything, and he wanted to make the entire world look as broken and angry as he felt, but he couldn’t do any of that.

Instead, he focused on his breathing, like Dr. Macdonald taught him.

_ In for five seconds, hold for three seconds, out for seven seconds, _ over and over and over again, until his grip on his phone loosened and he wasn’t biting his lip quite as hard, even if his mind couldn’t seem to quiet down and his gaze was still drilling into the happy face that Jefferson ended the conversation with.

It was staring back at him, and it was taunting him, and Alex hated the stupid face with every aspect of his being, and he hated how it made him feel, and he hated himself too because, really, everything was crashing down on him and it was entirely his fault.

He was the one who’d met with his father, and he was the one who gave his father a second chance, and he was the one who gave his father the money, and he was the one who got caught, and he was the one who’d been stupid enough to think that it would all work out and, like everything else in his life, he was the one who had to deal with it.

Still, no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t seem to come up with a solution, and it made him feel trapped and lost and even more helpless than before. All he really wanted to do was tell somebody and just ask for help, but he realized all at once that he had no idea how to do that.

Worst of all, was the fact that Jefferson was right; Lafayette would be crushed and the Washington’s would be as well, and disappointing them didn’t feel like something that Alex would survive, but he also knew that he couldn’t just keep going along with it. He was already putting so much energy into not thinking about his father, and staying calm, and ignoring the way his heart sped up every time he opened his locker, and having to put up with anything else seemed impossible.

His head hurt and his chest did too, and the entire world felt like too much to handle, and then Alex remembered what Eliza had told him about Jefferson, and then he was reaching for his phone and texting Aaron before he could stop himself.

Aaron hadn't told the Washington's about Alex dating John, and Aaron had helped Maria, and Aaron had fought Jefferson before, and Aaron was too far away to actually do anything, but Alex could ask him for help.

He could text him or call him and he didn't have to tell him everything but he could tell him bits and pieces and Aaron could give him advice, and it would all work out fine.

With that in mind, he typed, ‘ _ Hypothetically speaking, what would somebody being blackmailed by Thomas Jefferson do to make him stop? _ ’ but erased it before he could press send. Next he tried, ‘ _ I heard that you’ve fought Thomas Jefferson before, so would you be interested in doing it again? _ ’ but he erased that one too and then, just to get it off his chest, he typed out, ‘ _ Hypothetically speaking, if Thomas Jefferson caught me on camera giving my birth father money that the Washington’s gave me and was using it to blackmail me, what would you suggest I do? _ ’ and then he erased that one as well, except Alex realized a moment too late that instead of pressing ‘backspace’ he’d pressed ‘send’, and then  _ ‘Read at 1:19AM’ _ appeared beside the text box, and Alex felt his heart drop about a million feet, and then-

“Fuck,” he said, and then, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” louder, as he panicked and jumped off his bed and looked around the room for something- anything- that could help him, but he realized all at once that there was absolutely nothing he could do, and then his phone was ringing and he had to answer it, and-

“What the fuck, Alexander?”

“I- it was a joke?” Alex tried, his voice frantic and higher than usual, because it was the first thing that came to mind and it seemed like the best option, but-

“Alex.”

“I didn’t mean to send it to you, okay?” Alex said, abandoning his original explanation, and then, “Look- just ignore it, okay? It’s nothing I can’t handle and it’s really nothing at all and you just can’t tell anybody, okay? It’s really, really fine, and I’m handling it, and-”

“Alex, what’s going on?” Aaron interrupted him and, somehow, he didn’t sound panicked at all. His voice was calm and smooth and a bit frustrated and a bit exasperated, but those were things that Alex could handle, even when Aaron continued with, “You need to tell me, or I’m sending George a screenshot of what you just sent me.”

“You can’t,” Alex protested immediately, one hand gripping his phone and the other pulling on his hair to ground himself, and then- “It’s not what it seems like, okay?”

“Then tell me what happened.”

“I just-” Alex started, and then he stopped himself because he realized that the truth was the only thing that could help him, and then he let the whole story fall out. 

He told Aaron about the Christmas card, and about the first meeting with his father, and about the money, and about the blackmail, and about the whole entire thing, and he finished it with- “But look, I’m taking care of it, alright? I can handle it so just- don’t worry about me and don’t tell anybody and it’ll be fine, I swear.”

And then it was quiet.

Aaron didn’t say anything and Alex didn’t have anything left to say and it was one of those silences that ate away at him and was so noticeable that it almost hurt, and all Alex could do was wait it out.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and he bit his bottom lip, and he thought about praying but he decided against it, and then-

“Alex, you need to tell George and Martha,” Aaron said, and he was still calm but there was an edge to it that Alex knew was hatred, so he wasn’t particularly surprised when Aaron continued, with, “If you don’t tell them, I will,” but Aaron finished the whole thing off with, “If you don’t tell them, they can’t help you,” and that really did surprise Alex.

“ _ What _ ?”

On the other end of the phone, it sounded like Aaron let out a sigh, and then, “You want your father to leave you alone?”

“Yes,” Alex all but barked, quickly and maybe a bit harsher than necessary, so he backtracked and finished with- “I- yes.”

“And you want this whole thing with Thomas to go away?”

“Yes,” Alex said again, more tentative but still sure, and then-

“Then you need to tell George and Martha,” Aaron said, firm and confident, before he continued, sounding slightly more exasperated. “For Christ’s sake, Alex, you’ve got two people blackmailing you and, legally speaking, I’m pretty sure your birth father shouldn’t be anywhere near you, so if you don’t tell George and Martha, then I will.”

Aaron was right, and Alex knew that.

Still, the thought of telling the Washington’s everything he’d done wasn’t a pleasant one and it wasn’t something that Alex wanted to do at all, so-

“Fine. I- I’ll tell them,” he said, and then, “But just- just give me more time, okay? Just- give me a week?”

“Alex-”

“A day?” Alex tried again, interrupting whatever protest Aaron had on the tip of his tongue, and then- “It’s the middle of the night- you can’t call them now and just- they’ve got work and stuff tomorrow so I’ll- I’ll tell them at dinner, okay? But just- just give me a day, okay?”

He definitely heard a sigh again, but then- “Fine,” Aaron said, sounding reluctant and tired and almost worried, which was confusing in and of itself, and then he continued with, “Alex, I’m doing this to help you, you know. This is just going to get worse the longer it goes on,” and Alex made a noise that he hoped sounded like agreeance, and then Aaron hung up, and Alex blinked, and then he sat back down.

He hadn’t actually realized that he’d been standing for the whole conversation, pacing the room and fiddling with whatever he could get his hands on, but now that he wasn’t moving, he actually had the chance to process his feelings and, strangely enough, he realized that he actually did feel fine.

For the first time in a long time, he felt calm.

With that in mind, he started to write.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter feels kind of mechanical to me and idk if i like it but the next few chapters are going to be emotional messes, so
> 
> i was also super close to calling it 'helpless part 3' but then i was like noope because realistically the next 4 or so chapters could be called helpless as well but i have to start being creative again so


	34. hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he'll write his way out...

Alex didn’t know what he was writing and he didn’t know why he was writing it but, when his alarm clock went off at 6:30 the next morning, he realized that he had thousands of words staring back at him, and that most of them made no sense whatsoever.

It took a few more rings of his alarm before he actually stood up to turn it off and, when he did, his entire body was stiff from hunching over his computer and his eyes were almost painfully bloodshot and his head felt like it’d been run over, and he needed coffee.

He had enough sense to get dressed, and then he headed downstairs and was incredibly grateful to see a full coffee pot waiting for him, though when George walked into the kitchen while Alex was reaching for a mug, he panicked for a moment, but George didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Instead, he grumbled something that sounded close to, “Morning, son,” and then got started on his own coffee, and Alex was overwhelmed by relief when he realized that Aaron had kept his word, and hadn’t told the Washington’s anything.

Still, that relief was short lived because, moments later, Alex was sitting at the table and George was too, and George handed him the Politics section of the newspaper and kept the rest for himself, and it was the same thing they’d been doing for weeks so there really wasn’t anything strange about it at all, except Alex realized all at once that, come tomorrow, this wouldn’t be happening.

No matter what Aaron said, come tomorrow, there was a good chance that the Washington’s wouldn’t want anything to do with Alex and, even if that weren’t the case, come tomorrow, everything would change.

In less than twelve hours, either Alex had to tell the Washington’s about everything he’d done or Aaron would tell them for him and, either way, Alex couldn’t imagine it going well. He couldn’t imagine them forgiving him, and he couldn’t imagine them wanting to keep him around and, no matter how often Martha spoke about love not having limits or conditions, he couldn’t imagine that actually being true.

He’d been kicked out of more homes than anybody had thought possible, and his own father didn’t see him as anything more than a tool to use and throw away, and Alex wanted to believe with all his heart that he was worth more than that, but he was also terrified that he wasn’t. He was terrified that the Washington’s would realize that he wasn’t, and he was terrified of what would happen when they realized it and, all at once, Alex realized that he didn’t want to be around when that happened.

And then he was broken out of that train of thought by loud footsteps on the stairs, and then Lafayette was in the kitchen as well, throwing open cupboards and drawers before he decided that nothing they had was breakfast worthy, and that him and Alex would have to stop on the way to school, and that they had to leave now.

Alex laughed and went along with it and excused himself to pack his bag and, when he was back in his room and face to face with the words on his computer screen again, an idea began to form in his mind, so he grabbed the computer and threw it in his bag along with everything else.

By the time they left, Martha was in the kitchen as well, smiling at them as they went, while George called out, “Learn something new,” over his shoulder. As far as goodbye’s went, it didn’t feel like enough and Alex desperately didn’t want it to actually be a goodbye, but he didn’t know what else to do or say, so he just followed Laf outside.

They stopped at Starbucks for food and more coffee, and then they were at school and Alex was back to going through the motions of normalcy, and he realized then just how much he loved it all.

At his locker, he kissed John and told him that he was fine, and he waved off Peggy’s concerned looks as well, and he bit his lip and avoided Jefferson’s gaze in the hall, and Math class was as boring as ever, and he managed to sleep through most of World Politics, and then it was lunch and he was running out of time, so he headed straight for the library.

He wasn’t sure whether or not his friends actually believed him, but he told them he was going there and he wasn’t lying, and he realized that it didn’t matter either way.

When he got there, he found a table in the back and pulled out his computer and opened the Word document he’d created the night before, and he read it all the way through, and then he started to edit.

He’d never been good at cutting stuff out, but he added a few commas here and there and reworded a few run on sentences and, by the time he was done, it almost seemed readable, but Alex also knew that it wasn’t enough. Something was missing and he didn’t know what it was, but the words he’d written seemed like half-truths and they didn’t seem real, and they didn’t seem good enough for George and Martha and Lafayette and everybody else that Alex desperately didn’t want to hurt.

Because of that, Alex started going through everything else he’d ever written on the computer.

He read the angry, confused confessions he’d penned the first night he’d stayed with the Washington’s, and they at least explained where he was coming from, so he included them in the document he was working on.

After that, he read everything.

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to excuse his behaviour or justify it or just explain it, but he kept going anyways.

He read what he’d written about his mother and his cousin, and about his childhood, and about the foster homes he’d stayed at before the Washington’s, and he read what he’d written about the Washington’s, and about Lafayette and Aaron, and about his new friends, and about the family he seemed to fit into so well, and he added it all to the document as well.

Somewhere during all of that, he heard the bell ring and students around him ushered out of the library and headed to class, but Alex couldn’t bring himself to go.

He didn’t trust himself to sit in the debate class with Jefferson and not say anything, so he just didn’t bother.

Instead, he kept reading and writing and editing.

He read about the Christmas card, and about the notes in his locker, and about meeting his father, and about giving his father the money, and he read about how he hated himself for the whole thing, and he added all of that to the document as well and, by the time he was done with everything, Alex felt like the story of his life was staring back at him and he felt like there was still something missing, but this time he knew exactly what it was.

At the end of it all, he typed out, ‘ _I’m so, so sorry for everything. Living with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you proud, even if I don’t deserve your forgiveness,_ ’ and then he printed the whole thing before he could stop himself, and then he printed it again.

The first copy was going to the Washington’s and the second copy was going to his father, because they both needed answers and explanations.

The Washington’s needed to know what Alex had done and why he did it, and they needed to know how sorry he was.

His father, on the other hand, needed to know that it was all over. He needed to know that Alex was done helping him and seeing him and caring about him, and he also needed to know what he’d done to Alex. He needed to know how badly he’d hurt him and, while Alex had a slight suspicion that his father wouldn’t actually care at all, he at least had to try.

Still, the Washington’s needed their copy first, which meant that Alex needed to get it to them and, truthfully, Alex hadn’t planned that far ahead.

Because of that, when the bell rang and fifth period started and the halls outside the library sounded like they’d cleared, Alex slipped out of the library and headed towards Laf’s locker.

He was walking quickly, and he was glancing over his shoulder every couple of steps and, by the time he got there, he was sure he looked like a nervous mess, but he was there and he had a job to do, and he was just reaching for the lock, trying to open it, when-

“Alex? Hey! Angelica said you weren’t in class- is everything-” Eliza cut herself when Alex turned to face her, and Alex took that as a testament to how awful he looked, and then Eliza continued with, “Alex, what’s wrong?” and she sounded concerned and kind and that was too much for Alex to handle, but she could help him with one thing, so-

“I’m fine,” he said, and then, “I just need to make sure Laf gets this- can you give it to him?” he asked, holding out the papers, and passing them to Eliza before she actually had the chance to refuse, and then- “I’ve got to go- just- just make sure he gets them, okay?”

And then Alex was turning to go, and the gravity of what he was doing struck him hard and fast, but before he could actually get anywhere, Eliza grabbed his arm and turned him around, and-

“Alex, what’s going on?” she asked, and the kindness was gone and so was her usual patience, and it was replaced with concern that sounded as frantic and panicked as Alex felt, and he had no idea what to do with that, but-

“Nothing, okay?” he said, and then, “I just- I have to go. I’ve got- an appointment, okay? I have to go, and I need to- just- Please, promise me that Laf’ll get this- please?”

Alex was staring into her eyes and she was staring back and he wasn’t sure what she saw but, after a moment, she nodded and said, “Okay, Alex, yes- of course I’ll make sure he gets it, but-” and then he cut her off with a hug, and he didn’t let go for a long time.

He held onto her as tightly as she could and, after a moment, she returned the embrace, and Alex felt good and loved and grounded, and he breathed out a, “Thank you,” and then he pulled back and tried his best to smile when he said, “You’re the best,” but she didn’t smile back.

Instead, she sighed slightly and her brow was still furrowed and she said, “Alex, whatever you’re doing, just-”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, interrupting her with the words he could only hope were true, and then- “Thank you,” and then he really did pull away, and he rushed down the hall and he only looked back just before he turned the corner, and she was still watching him, and Alex wanted to turn around and go back, but he couldn’t, because he had one more thing to do.

It was still cold out, but he ignored that, and he ignored the thousands of warnings screaming in his head, and he ignored the tears building up in his eyes, and he ignored how much he hated saying goodbye, and he just kept walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY spoilers (sort of?) but i just want to make it clear that alex's plan is to run away- the first time i wrote this chapter it sort of sounded like he was going to attempt suicide and i just want it to be very, very clear that that is NOT the direction that this story is going in
> 
> that being said, this story's gonna get angstier before it gets better and by that i mean that next chapter is going to be angst central and the chapter after that is going to be angst but in a slightly better way, and it'll be uphill after that i promise! 
> 
> <3


	35. it's quiet uptown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are moments that the words don't reach...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for vaguely suicidal thoughts, but those thoughts aren't acted on at all
> 
> (also though, shout out to me for writing the most vague and ominous chapter summary yet)

Alex got on a bus eventually, but it was stuffy and overcrowded and he ended up standing between a girl with sharp elbows and a man who smelt awful, and he got off a few stops sooner than necessary because he figured he could use the walk.

He needed to walk.

He needed to clear his head, and he needed to make sure he wasn’t going to cry, and he needed to forget, at least for a little bit longer, that he’d just ran away from the best people he’d ever known.

He kept his hands shoved in his pocket, and his shoulders hunched over, and his head bowed down, but every step he took felt like a statement, and he was moving faster than he wanted to but he didn’t know how to make himself stop.

He also didn’t know how to ease the nerves growing in his stomach or the numbness that seemed to be spreading everywhere else, and he figured that he might just have to live with those.

He was a block away from his father’s house when his phone started vibrating in his pocket, and Alex took it out to see George’s name flashing across the screen. He dismissed the call and then he turned the phone off and then he kept walking, trying to decide whether or not he should ditch the phone altogether.

He didn’t come to a decision either way but, by the time he was standing in front of his father’s house, a sense of resolve had settled over him, and he fished his confessional statement out of his bag and looked it over one last time, before he walked up the driveway, towards the front door.

A part of him felt scared and lost and completely exhausted, and that part was growing by the second, and it told him to leave the papers on the porch and to run, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do that.

He needed finality and he needed closure, and he needed the satisfaction of telling his father that he was done.

For once in his life, he needed to be the one to leave, because he couldn’t handle being left again.

Because of that, when he was standing in front of the door he only hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath and letting it out, before he rang the doorbell, waited a moment, and then started knocking.

And he knocked, and knocked, and knocked, and he didn’t stop until the door he was banging on opened and he came face to face with a kid who couldn’t have been older than five, and that didn’t make sense at all, so-

“Who are you?” Alex asked, plain and blunt, and the kid just kept staring at him with wide eyes that were made of nothing but curiosity and innocence, and then he blinked.

“James Hamilton Jr.,” he said, proud and uncertain but a tiny bit stubborn, and Alex felt his entire body go limp, and then he was putting all of his energy into standing up straight and breathing, because he didn’t feel alive in the slightest, and when the kid continued with, “Who are you?” Alex had no idea what to say.

“I-” he started, and then cut himself off because, ‘ _I think I’m your brother,_ ’ didn’t seem appropriate, so he breathed out, “It doesn’t matter,” instead, and James Hamilton Jr. frowned at that.

“Mum says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” he said, and then, “I’m not supposed to answer the door either,” and he looked like he was expecting an answer, which Alex found ridiculous and absurd and completely unreasonable, because all he wanted were answers as well, because the fact that his father had a kid pretty much counteracted every excuse Alex had ever been given.

_‘I’m a shit father.’_

_‘You’d be better off without me.’_

_‘I’m no good for you.’_

They were all just nice ways of saying ‘ _You’re the problem._ _I just don’t want you_ ,’ and realizing that made Alex feel sick.

He felt like laughing until he cried, and he felt like he was falling apart, piece by piece, and he felt like sitting down on the porch and never standing up again, because he felt like all his energy had left his body, and that made being alive feel like the hardest thing in the world.

He felt empty and broken and completely and entirely useless, because his father didn’t want him, but then he’d gone and had another kid and named the kid after himself and kept the kid around and, suddenly, all Alex wanted to know was why he wasn’t good enough.

He wanted to know what he could do to be better, and he wanted to know why nobody wanted him, and he wanted to know why nothing he did was ever good enough for anybody, and he wanted to know why he always ended up completely and entirely alone in the world, but he was standing in front of a five year old and he couldn’t exactly ask the kid any of that, so-

“I’m Alex,” he said, but the second the words were out of his mouth he felt like he’d said too much, because all the kid did was blink, and Alex realized that he didn’t belong there at all, because his father wasn’t his father and the kid standing in front of him wasn’t his brother, and they were a family that Alex wasn’t a part of at all.

They were a family, and their family was better off without him, and that made them just like every other family that Alex had ever lived with.

Still, he swallowed down the hysteria and bit his lip as hard as he could, before he forced a smile on his face because the kid was starting to look scared, and held out the now-wrinkled papers, and-

“Give these to your father, alright?”

And the kid took the papers and nodded, and Alex nodded too because he didn’t know what else to do, and then he spun on his heels and walked away without looking back.

He made it to the first bus stop before he realized that he didn’t actually have anywhere to go, and that thought struck him like an arrow to the chest that he was desperately trying to ignore.

As far as Alex was concerned, every foster kid in the history of the world had made plans to run away at some point or another, and he was no exception.

He’d spent countless nights thinking up plans and heists and escapes, that involved him running back to the ocean or camping out in a library or finding his own apartment and taking care of himself, but those were dreams and this was real life and he didn’t have any money at all, because he’d been stupid enough to give it all to his father.

He had a handful of spare change, the clothes he was wearing, a few notebooks, his computer, and his phone.

He couldn’t buy a bus ticket, and he couldn’t buy food, and he couldn’t do anything at all except keep walking, so that’s what he did.

He walked.

He didn’t pay attention to where he was or where he was going, and he was pretty sure he went in a circle more than once, but he just kept going. He kept putting one foot in front of the other and he kept moving and he kept breathing, because if he was moving and breathing than he was alive, and that was just about all he had left.

His mom was dead, and his father had his own family, and the Washington’s would hate him for the trouble he’d caused, and Laf would hate him for hurting them, and John would hate him for leaving, and there was nobody in the world that wanted him at all.

It made him feel anonymous and alone, and he felt like if he stopped moving he’d disappear forever and, for half a second, he didn’t think that he’d mind that at all, but he shook that thought away and he kept moving, and the world kept moving around him.

Some streets were full of people and others were completely empty, and cars and buses drove by, and he heard bits and pieces of conversations, and some people smiled at him and some people ignored him entirely, and he figured that he deserved as much.

The sun went down eventually, and the lights on cars became harsh, and he wandered through grocery stores when his hands went numb, but he never stayed anywhere for long.

He kept walking and kept moving and he tried his best to plan what he was going to do next but, for the most part, he couldn’t think of anything at all.

His head was so full that it hurt, and his chest felt like it was going to explode, but he couldn’t put any of it into words, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t think there were words for how he felt and, if there were, he didn’t want to know them.

He didn’t want anybody else in the world to feel what he felt, because he felt like the world was ending and all he could do was watch it.

Eventually, almost all of the streets were empty and the stores were closing and the houses he passed were dark and foreboding, and the world felt like a ghost town.

The world was quiet around him, and he was jealous of it.

Still, he just kept going, and he wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse but he didn’t have another plan, so he stuck to it.

He couldn’t imagine ever feeling better, and he couldn’t imagine ever forgiving himself or being forgiven, and he couldn’t imagine putting himself back together again, but still, he kept walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to end this on a hopeful note because it hurt my heart to write, but also
> 
> my writing strategy was literally just listening to it's quiet uptown and crying, so
> 
> the next few chapters will still be pretty angsty, but in a nicer way, i promise


	36. distress and disarray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alexander was on washington's doorstep one day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (700 kudos what the fuck i'm dying you people are the best)

When the sun came up, Alex found a coffee shop.

He watched the world wake up and he watched everything start over again, and he had to start over again as well, and he figured that if his phone and his computer were all he had, then he should at least try to keep them charged.

Because of that, he ordered a small coffee and counted out the exact change and ignored the barista’s concerned look as he handed it over, and then he sat in a corner near an outlet, and he plugged everything in.

While his phone was loading and his coffee was cooling, he rested his head on the table in front of him, and willed himself not to fall asleep.

Still, his mind was a hazy and his body was aching and staying awake was not a success, but he was woken up moments later anyways, by his phone buzzing fiercely in front of him, with more notifications than he’d thought possible.

There were missed calls and voicemails and texts and Alex was terrified to look at any of them, but the texts were right there and they seemed to be from everybody he knew, and he was reading them before he could stop himself.

_‘Alex, just answer your phone.’_

_‘Nobody’s mad at you, son. Come home and we can fix this together. We love you, Alex.’_

_‘Please, come home.’_

_‘what the fuck, ham?’_

_‘Alex, we’ve been looking for you all night and we’re not going to stop so please, just come back.’_

And there were dozens of others just like that, but the ones that stung the most were from Laf, because they started out with, _‘Eliza said you left?’_ and went on to, ‘ _What’s going on, mon ami?’_ and they trailed off into, ‘ _You could have told me,_ ’ and, _‘I could have helped,_ ’ and ‘ _I’ve never seen Aaron cry before_ ,’ and they ended with, ‘ _The only thing you have to apologize for is leaving, and if you don’t come home I will never forgive you for it_ ,’ and Alex didn’t know what to make of any of it.

He knew that he was trying not to cry, and he knew that his head hurt, but nothing else in the world made sense to him at all, because they weren’t mad at him and he didn’t deserve that.

They were supposed to hate him, and they were supposed to kick him out, and they were supposed to be mad at him for the rest of their lives, but instead they were worried, and listening to the voicemails they’d left made Alex feel like the worst person in the world.

Martha’s voice broke more than once when she said, “This still doesn’t change anything, Alex. We still love you and we still want you around and we still want to help you, but you need to let us. Please, let us. Just come home and let us help you, okay?” and Alex wanted to press replay and listen to it over and over again for the rest of his life, but then the next message was starting, and-

“Look, Ham, just- I don’t really know what’s going on- nobody knows, okay? But, just- you’re running away, right? Just- just come back and get me, okay? My father’s a dick and he’s the only family I’ve got and I don’t have much else going for me either so just- I’ll go with you, okay? You don’t have to be alone, Ham, okay? You could have told me- you should have told me- look, just tell me where you are and I’ll meet you there and bring money or something and just- I’ll come with you, okay? You’re not alone, Alex. You don’t have to be alone.”

John sounded tense and scared and a tiny bit out of breath, like he was on the brink of tears and like he was trying to fix everything in the entire world all at once, and it broke Alex’s heart, but then the next message was playing, and-

“Alexander Hamilton, you idiot. You- _god_ , you stupid, arrogant, loud-mouthed- _fuck_ , you _bastard_ . What the fuck, Alex? This isn’t what I meant, for god sake. This is _not_ what you were supposed to do. Fucking hell, Alex, this isn’t how you fix things, okay? You come home, and you talk about it, and your family helps you. You don’t just- _god_ , Alex- you- just _come home_ , for fucks sake.”

Listening to Aaron fall apart didn’t seem real- it didn’t seem possible- and Alex hated everything about it, and then the next message was playing, and-

“You don’t get to do this, Hamilton. Look. Peggy’s freaking out because she knew about your father, and Eliza’s in hysterics because she thinks she should have done more to stop you, and they’re both blaming themselves, and John looks like his heart is breaking because he _loves_ you and- look. I’ve never seen Lafayette this quiet before. He’s not talking to anybody and it’s scary and you don’t get to do this to your friends- you don’t get to do this to people who love you, so you need to come home, now.”

Angelica sounded more irritated than anything else, but underneath that there was something soft and scared in her voice that kept Alex from laughing, even though that’s all he wanted to do.

He wanted to laugh.

He wanted to smile and he wanted to laugh and he wanted to feel happy and relieved, because there were more messages and they all said the same thing-

They all said that Alex was loved and that he was wanted and that he had friends and family and all of the things he’d always hoped for, and it made him feel amazed and confused and lost all at once, but most of all he felt guilty.

They wanted him to come home- they kept telling him, over and over again, to just come home, and a tiny voice in the back of Alex’s mind was still telling him that it was a trick- that they just wanted to kick him out or yell at him or hurt him, but he also realized that they deserved more than that.

George and Martha had never hurt him. They’d never tried to get rid of him. They’d never been anything but perfect and kind and loving, and they’d welcomed them into their home and their family, and they’d given him parents and brothers and-

Brothers.

He had brothers.

He had Aaron, who didn’t quite like him but definitely cared about him, and he had Laf, who was just about his favourite person in the world.

Laf, who’d been willing to share his family and his friends and his life with a complete stranger, and who’d already forgiven Alex for so many stupid little things he’d done over the months they’d known each other, and who was always caring and confident and alive, and who was now being quiet.

Aaron was unravelling and Laf was quiet and Alex was by himself, hiding from everything and, for once in his life, being alone didn’t make sense.

It felt unnatural and impossible and pointless, and Alex hated it with every fiber of his being because being alone was a choice that he was making and he knew it was the wrong choice and, all at once, he realized that he wasn’t dealing with his problems at all; he was running from them.

He wasn’t protecting anybody but himself and, really, he wasn’t even doing a very good job of that.

He was running away and he was giving up, and he was hurting everybody he loved in the process, and that was something that he would never forgive himself for because his family and his friends deserved more than that.

They loved him and they cared about him and they wanted him in their lives and Alex was pretty sure that he’d never understand why, but he was sure that they did, and they deserved more.

George and Martha and Laf and Aaron and John and Peggy and Eliza and Angelica and everybody else that he loved deserved the entire world and he couldn’t give them that, but they all wanted him to go home and that was something that he could do, so that’s what he did.

Google maps told him where he was and what direction to walk in, and he left his now cold coffee on the table, and he shoved his phone in his pocket and his computer in his bag, and he started walking.

The sun was out and brighter than ever and it made what was left of the snow painful to look at, and it wasn’t really cold out but Alex was shivering anyways, and he was completely and entirely exhausted, but he kept walking and it was easier this time, because he had somewhere to go.

He was still scared and tired and his head was killing him and his stomach felt off and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever really be ready to face the Washington’s, but that was all beside the point, because he’d made up his mind and he knew what he was doing.

He was finally, actually fixing things, and it didn’t feel like something he’d survive, but he kept walking anyways.

And then, soon enough, he was standing in front of the Washington’s house, freezing cold but covered in sweat, tired down to his bones but buzzing with energy, feeling nothing but terror and resolve, and he rang the doorbell.

After that he took a step back and he waited.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and he bit his lip, and he hugged himself to try and stop his whole body from trembling, and he waited.

He changed his mind a million times while he was standing on the doorstep, and he was pretty sure he saw his life flash before his eyes, and all he wanted to do was turn around and run away again, but he didn’t.

He stood as tall and firm as he could manage, and he waited.

It felt like years went by before he heard the door open, but then it did, and time seemed to speed up and stop making sense all at once.

Alex felt arms wrap around him and pull him close, and he opened his eyes to a faceful of Laf’s hair and that was probably for the best because it hid most of the tears, and then-

And then Laf was saying something and it sounded French, and the footsteps coming towards them sounded like the loudest things in the world, and there was crying too- somebody was saying his name- somebody was crying his name and it was _so loud_ , and Alex realized all at once that he wasn’t carrying any of his body weight, and that he couldn’t lift his head up and that the entire world was out of focus and then-

And then everything fell away entirely, and the world went black, and it was finally quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he just passed out okay i promise he's not dead or anything- that boy is just very very tired
> 
> but it's only getting happier from here, and this whole thing is almost done and honestly i can't believe that i've gotten this far??

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read this far, let me know what you think?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Through the woods we ran](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995133) by [Persie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persie/pseuds/Persie)




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